Though Hell Should Bar the Way
by theworldsinmymind
Summary: Based off "The Highwayman," by Alfred Noyes. Bella is a college student who is visiting family on Thanksgiving break. Lost during an evening walk, she meets a man who tells her a story about the house she grew up in... She's never met him before, so why is he so familiar? All Human.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

 _The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,  
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,  
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,  
And the highwayman came riding—  
Riding—riding—  
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door._

 **Bella, Boston, November 2010**

I crept out of the old house, praying to God that the door wouldn't squeak. Knowing the traitorous disposition of the ancient estate, I wouldn't have been surprised if it did just to spite me. No matter how many times we renovated it, there was always something that needed fixing.

The sounds of bickering and children screaming and adults yelling and china crashing followed behind me as I softly closed the door. I rolled my eyes.

All I'd wanted was a peaceful Thanksgiving break. You know, the usual: a quiet dinner with the family, a serene scene in front of a roaring fire, roasting chestnuts and a mug of hot chocolate. But with my family... I don't know how I even could have hoped. I wondered why I'd even agreed to come out here in the first place.

Actually, I knew exactly why.

First of all, my sister Alice had asked me to, and that little pixie was damned hard to say no to. She'd inherited the old clunker of a house after she'd gotten married to her southern gentleman, Jasper Whitlock. Our father deeded it to her as a wedding gift and then promptly moved to Forks, Washington, far on the other side of the country, wanting as little to do with Alice and Jasper's newly-wed antics as possible.

Second, I loved the countryside. I'd grown up here with my sisters, Alice and Rosalie, and I loved the serenity of the trees, the quiet of the mostly unpopulated terrain, the feeling of being one with nature. I'd looked forward to coming here and sitting in my old room that Alice and Jasper still kept up, even though it was their house now, staring outside at the falling leaves and working on my yet unfinished applications to grad school.

Lastly, I'd looked forward to getting away from the busy scene of Cambridge. I loved Harvard, but I needed to get away for a while. Or maybe, it was more a question of who I needed to get away from. My three year relationship with Jake had failed, and we both knew it. We were great friends, but somehow, we just couldn't function as a couple. He'd become increasingly clingy in the past year and I just couldn't take his hovering anymore. So I broke up with him a week ago. He'd taken it stoically, even agreeing that it was the best thing to do, but I still thought a little time away would be restorative for both of us if we had any hope of salvaging our previous friendship.

All I'd wanted was a little peace and quiet for contemplation. Contemplation of who I was, where I was going. Even after four years of a Harvard education, I still didn't know. I just felt there was a little part of myself I was missing, that one annoying piece of the puzzle that I couldn't find.

But of course, that was too much to ask.

I don't know what was in Alice's head when she'd insisted on inviting both Charlie and Renée over. They mixed together about as well as oil and water and then, inviting Rosalie too had been even worse, since she was the fire that usually set everything off. And now that Renée had found Phil... well, that just made everything more awkward. I snorted as I pictured the poor guy's dumbfounded expression as he watched his new wife screaming at her ex-husband and then his new step-daughter Rosalie screaming at her three boys and then her own mother for criticizing her mothering skills. Jasper and Rosalie's husband, Emmett were the only ones who'd remained unfazed. They'd been in our family for far too long to be surprised.

I winced as another crash resonated throughout the house and I heard Rosalie's shrill tones and Alice's horrified scream.

"HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU NOT THROW THINGS AROUND THE HOUSE, ETHAN PATRICK MCCARTHY? NOW LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE! YOU'VE BROKEN AUNT ALICE'S FAVORITE PLATE! EMMETT! COME HERE AND PUT YOUR KID INTO TIME-OUT!"

I sighed as a child's demanding scream filled the air and shook my head. Rosalie's boys were devils disguised as adorable little kids. They'd inherited Emmett's lovable and attractively boyish features, but unfortunately, they'd also inherited Rosalie's fiery temper and strong will.

I drifted towards the old stables that were now the garage, considering on taking the car, but then thought the better of it. Physical exercise would better clear my head of the chaos of the last two hours. As I walked past the cow pen, I nuzzled the nose of our old cow, Patsy. She stared back at me with gentle, long-lashed eyes.

"I don't know how you stand it here, Patsy," I whispered, "They're driving _me_ crazy after just one day. How do you do it?" But she only looked at me and let out a low sympathetic _moo._ I sighed and patted her head before moving on past the old wooden fence gate.

It was an extraordinarily warm night for the Boston area. There was a slight chill breeze, but still, all I had on were jeans, my old Converse, a warm brown turtleneck that Alice said matched my eyes and a light crimson windbreaker with an H emblazoned on it for the school. And that was all I needed. The sun was just setting and its rays warmed me as I wandered down the dirt path, the house and its sounds within getting farther and farther away. I grabbed a stick from the side of the road and trailed it along in the dust. Soon, the path turned sharply right to yield to a cement road among the trees, one that I knew would go down to the busy highway, but I turned left instead, to where there was just grass and no road. I had traversed these fields enough times that I was unworried about finding my way back.

Oh, how wrong I was.

I was lost in my own thoughts as I kept on walking, hands brushing the tall grass that went up to my waist. I barely noticed that it was getting successively darker and darker until a freezing gust of wind blew in my face, penetrating my turtleneck and stealing away some of the warmth from my skin. I broke out of my reverie and looked around. It was late twilight, almost turning into evening and I... I had no idea where I was. In my daze, the world around me had changed and what had looked familiar before had somehow morphed into what may as well have been a whole other planet for how foreign it all seemed. Frowning, I scoured my brain for any memory at all of this place, finding it all so very strange as I was sure I'd romped through every nook and cranny of the surrounding area as a child. It was as if I'd unwittingly stepped into a warp-hole that transported me into another universe.

I squinted my eyes and looked all around me, hoping for a familiar glow on the horizon that might signal where the Swan homestead was. But there were only the stars twinkling on, one by one, in the violet sky. Mentally berating myself for being so stupid, I whipped out my cell phone and punched in my speed-dial for home, not looking forward to Alice's disapproval at my sneaking out or Emmett's amusement at my getting lost. He'd probably make some stupid comment about wolves eating little girls...

I waited and waited, but the ring tone never came on. Perplexed I pulled my phone away from my ear and looked at it. Zero bars. There was no reception to be found here.

"Shit," I exclaimed, cursing my luck, cursing my cell-phone service provider, and cursing my own stupidity. I threw the cheap piece of plastic onto the ground and threw myself down into the grass in a rage. I flopped back and looked at the winter sky. The moon was full and bright tonight and bathed everything in an otherworldly glow. Another breeze came blowing through, rustling the grass above my head, which brushed against me like the touch of ghostly fingers, and I shivered, jumping up and looking around worriedly. This place had always been creepy at night…

I cursed again as I realized the idiotic hastiness of my actions and I dropped down onto my hands and knees, fingers raking the ground for my phone. Suddenly, my fingertips brushed against cold plastic and I grasped my phone, pulling myself up. My mouth went dry as my predicament hit me full-force. I needed to get home. Although it wasn't bad now, it would surely get lots cooler overnight and I'd always been frustratingly susceptible to low temperatures. At best I would get a severe cold and at worst, I would freeze. I hurried the way I came, hoping against hope that it would bring me back to the dirt road.

Minutes passed like hours and the night got darker and darker, until the moon was the only thing lighting my way. I hadn't found the dirt road yet, and I was about ready to cry from exhaustion and sheer panic when suddenly, a solitary light shined off in the distance. I huffed in relief. My sprint slowed down to a walk as I strolled towards that shining light. The night air was quiet- no sounds of bickering or yelling or screaming. Just... silence. I frowned in confusion. Silence just didn't happen in my family. But then, as I neared, I realized why.

It wasn't my house.

I almost collapsed in disappointment and frustration until I realized that this wasn't much of a setback. Whoever lived here might help me find my way. I strode up to the house, my confidence restored and peered through the door windows. The house was an old one, like mine, that was renovated for modern convenience. Everything inside was impeccable. Warm mahogany furniture, glossy paneled floors, a dark black piano in the middle of it all. My breath fogged up the glass and I was reminded of how cold it might get. I knocked on the door.

"Hello?" I called out. I waited but there was no answer. Desperate now, I knocked again, louder this time. _Please let someone be home,_ I thought.

"Hello?" I yelled. I waited but still, there was no answer. Out of my mind with fear now, I pounded on the door and screamed with all my might.

"Someone, please open the door! Please! HEL-LO?!"

Suddenly, a quiet voice sounded unexpectedly from right behind me, "Can I help you, miss?"

Caught off guard and with my nerves already stretched to their limit, I jumped, screeching, and whirled around to see who it was, finally losing my balance and slamming against the door before I slid down it to plop onto the ground. My breath was coming in and out of me in short, sharp gasps of shock. A hand drifted into my vision and I looked up to see the most beautiful man I'd ever seen in my life.

His features seemed to have been chiseled from stone and they were the likes of which had never been seen since the time of da Vinci and Michelangelo. A shock of perfectly messy bronze hair topped his glorious head, begging for fingers to run through it. Even in this dim light, his eyes were an unmistakable shade of bright, heart-melting green. My gaze unashamedly traveled down his body in my surprise. It seemed he'd been doing some work outside, because he was wearing a rather old and ratty shirt that was rolled up around well-tendoned forearms that ended in long-fingered and surprisingly elegant looking hands. I seemed to have lost control of my eyes as they stubbornly continued their journey down from his broad shoulders tapering to narrow hips and all the way to his utilitarian boots.

"Miss?" he said. He seemed to have asked me a question and I flushed as I realized he probably noticed me gawking at him. I tore my eyes back up to his face. Those green eyes were looking at me with worry and concern. And as they did, I was amazed to find that all of my fears had evaporated. For some reason, I felt safer than I'd ever had, like I had absolutely nothing to worry about. Strangely, it felt like coming home.

"I'm sorry, what?" I said, my voice coming out like a croak. I cleared my throat, embarrassed.

"I said would you like some help getting up?" he asked me again.

"Oh yeah! Thanks," I murmured, grabbing his hand as he pulled me up to my feet. A warmth flowed from his hand to mine and a slight gasp left my lips at the touch. There was something about it that I couldn't quite place... something ordinary and yet extraordinary at the same time, like I'd felt it before. It felt so familiar. He seemed to be a bit surprised too, because his hand squeezed mine for a moment as he stared at it, his face perplexed for a minute before he let my hand go and his features rearranged into concern. I found myself missing the warmth of his touch.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, "I didn't mean to frighten you."

"No, no," I rushed to counter him, "Don't be. I was just being jumpy and silly."

There was a silence as we stared at each other.

"So, why were you trying to break my door down?" he asked, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"Uh..." I stammered, "I kind of g-got lost." _Get a hold of yourself, Swan!_ I scolded myself. I cleared my throat again.

The beautiful man looked out into the night, "You got yourself lost really late."

"Yeah, well," I mumbled, "I guess I wasn't being all that smart."

The man chuckled and said, "Don't worry. It could happen to anyone. I'll help you find your way home. Let me get a jacket real fast and we'll be off."

I nodded mutely as he stepped into his house. I stood there looking after him and he stood there, too, holding open the door as if he were waiting for something.

"Aren't you going to come in?" he finally said.

"Oh! Um... that's okay, I can just wait here," I said. The beautiful man rolled his eyes before pulling me in.

"Don't be silly. You're going to freeze to death out there, considering what you're wearing. I'm not going to bite you, you know." he joked, flashing a brilliant smile in my direction before disappearing behind a door. I stared after him, his words striking a chord within my heart, making it skip a beat. Where have I heard that before?

"Haha, yeah," I laughed weakly, thrown off kilter by his words and his smile. _Why is this man affecting me like this_ , I wondered, internally slapping myself. _You've met other attractive men before without turning into a slobbering bimbo. Pull it together, Swan_. A minute later, he emerged in a blue Northface jacket.

"Let's go," he said and I followed him out the door. He locked up and then turned to me.

"I'm Edward," he said, holding out his hand. The name resonated through my mind with a significance I couldn't quite place. _Edward, Edward, Edward..._ my mind repeated.

"Bella," I replied, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake. Again, the warmth that flowed from his fingers to tingle through my entire body from the top of my head to the tips of my toes surprised me.

"Bella," he repeated. My name sounded like heaven through his lips.

"Your hands are freezing," he commented, as he brought his other hand to both of mine and rubbed them together, increasing the warmth that spread throughout my body at his touch. I barely stopped a moan of pleasure from escaping my damn traitor mouth.

"Here," he said, holding something out to me. It was another jacket. I didn't notice it before. I had been preoccupied by his face. I took it and, shivering as the empty air came in to replace the warmth where his hands had been, pushed my arms through the sleeves, wrapping the jacket around myself. It was too large on me and the sleeves fell past my hands, but I wasn't complaining. The more warmth the better.

"Thank you," I said, grateful for the protection against the cold.

Edward shrugged, "Esme made me buy two. I really don't know why. She's always so protective. But it seems like it came in handy tonight." He smiled at me and my heart dropped at the new name. Of course someone like him would be snatched up already.

"Sounds like you have a very devoted girlfriend," I said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, as if the thought that he was already attached had not somehow destroyed the rest of my week.

The green eyes widened, "Who? Esme? No, no... Esme is my mother. She comes up to visit every so often. I have no girlfriend."

"Oh! I'm sorry... I guess I just assumed. I mean, handsome guy like you..." I murmured, blushing as I did so. It was ridiculous how happy that one little fact made me. _He didn't have a girlfriend!_

I was surprised to find him a little flushed too, as he replied, "No, that's okay. It's an honest mistake that many people make. Few call their parents by their given names."

"No, I really should have known, because I do, too. Not to their faces though..." I said. We started walking away from the house. Edward had a flashlight in his hand, although the full moon sufficiently lighted our way.

"I'm sorry you have to help me find my way home. It must be annoying. Especially so close during the holidays. I'm probably pulling you away from your family," I apologized.

"That's okay," he said, "It happens all the time. You wouldn't believe the number of people that have come by here, lost, these days. Besides, Esme is my only family and she's not flying in until tomorrow so you're not keeping me from anyone. Where are you staying, anyways?" I described to him where my house was.

He looked at me in surprise, "You're staying in the old Swan Estate? You're Bella... Swan?"

I nodded, "Yeah, but I guess it's the Whitlock Estate now. My dad gave my sister Alice the old house when she got married to her husband, Jasper Whitlock, five months ago in June."

"Huh," Edward said, "Who would have guessed..." I looked at him and he seemed far away in his thoughts. I wondered if he was still thinking about my house or if it was something else.

"What?" I asked him.

"Well, it's just that there are a lot of old legends surrounding that place," he answered.

"A lot of old legends?" I questioned him.

"Well, not a lot," he admitted, "just one in particular."

I stared at him blankly.

"Bella," he admonished me, "you _live_ there. You can't tell me you've never heard any stories about your place?"

I shrugged, "I guess not. My parents haven't told me any stories. Or if they did, I probably just forgot."

"Trust me," Edward said, "you wouldn't have forgotten this one. In fact, it's the main reason why so many people are getting lost here nowadays. They keep trying to find _your_ house."

"Really?" I said, a bit astonished. I'd have never guessed that the creaky old monster was that popular, "But we've never seen anyone other than our own family around."

"Well, I never told them. I thought that your family wouldn't appreciate random strangers coming to your house and poking around all the time."

I was stunned by his unasked for thoughtfulness, "Thank you."

"No problem," he replied, as if it was nothing at all.

"So how do you know that I'm not just one of those random strangers?" I teased him.

He laughed, "Well, all of those other people couldn't even describe at least a little bit of where it was. And here you are, knowing every tree, shrub, and brook that surrounds the place. You couldn't be one of those random strangers."

He had me there. This guy was sharp.

"So," I said, curiosity peaked, "What is this old legend anyway?"

"Well," Edward said hesitantly, "It's a long story."

"Hmm... judging by how late it is and the fact that I started out at sunset, I figure that we've got time," I said. He still hesitated.

"What," I laughed, "did someone die or something?"

"Actually," Edward replied, "two people did."

All laughter died out of my voice. "Oh," I said.

He turned to me, catching my tone of voice, his fingers spread out apologetically and his eyes wide again, "I'm sorry if that upsets you. I shouldn't have said anything. That just completely slipped out."

I shook my head fervently, and perhaps, out of morbid interest, I said, "No, I want to know. What happened?"

Edward peered at me, his expression scrutinizing as I squirmed under his gaze, a gaze that made me want to jump his bones right then and there under the starry sky.

Finally, he spoke up, "Well, it's a rather tragic tale. Are you sure you want to hear it?" I sighed and sped up, stopping right in front of him, my arms crossed from both the cold and plain old pig-headedness.

"Spill," I commanded.

"We're just a little pushy today, aren't we?" Edward said, an eyebrow raised, but at my fierce look, he continued.

"Well, perhaps you know that your house used to be an old inn, a bed and breakfast of sorts, where people went to have a drink and stay overnight if they wanted to."

"Yeah, I remember hearing something like that. When I was six, my parents got into this huge fight with the city government. They wanted to make our house some sort of historical monument but my parents refused. Obviously we'd have to move out if they did so, and this house has been in my family for generations. I'd never understood why they wanted to make it a historical site though. There really isn't anything special about it, except the fact that it was old," I spoke my thoughts.

"Well, maybe this story will enlighten you as to why the city wanted to do that," Edward replied, "Your ancestor, the man who originally owned the place was..."

"The landlord," I completed.

"Right, and he had a beautiful daughter, his only daughter, and his most prized possession in the world since her mother died in birthing her. Legend has it that although he loved her greatly, he still held some resentment in his heart for her mother's death, and so father and daughter were never as close as they could have been and for most of her life, the daughter had a lot more freedom than most other girls," Edward explained.

I nodded, "So what happened?"

Edward chuckled darkly, "Well, what else could have happened? She fell in love..."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 _He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,_ _  
A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin;_ _  
They fitted with never a wrinkle: his boots were up to the thigh!_ _  
And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,_ _  
His pistol butts a-twinkle,_ _  
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky._

 **Isabella, Boston, October 1768**

It was getting dark as I hurried along the dusty road. I was going home after running some errands, but I started off later than I should have. Talking with Rose and Alice at the tavern where they worked as barmaids had made me forget myself and the time, so here I was scurrying down a dark road and as nervous as a horse.

I was wary of everything around me. My father Charlie had warned me of those brutes who called themselves the highwaymen, criminals who stole from people and did not hesitate to take the lives of men or the innocence of maids. I did not want to come across one. They are always more active during dark. I shivered and spurred myself on faster and faster, jumping at every little sound the night made. Every knocking of a tree's branch sounded like a highwayman's footsteps, the everyday hoot of an owl sounded like the whistle of his bloodthirsty lips.

Suddenly, I felt something- a hand -grasp my ankle and I screamed, tumbling down into the ditch by the side of the road. My basket crashed down in the dirt, and the eggs in there broke, their yellow yolks spilling and soaking into the dust. Still screaming, I struggled to get back up to my feet again, kicking at whoever had grabbed me, but they held fast and I couldn't go anywhere. The person who held onto me groaned. It seemed as if all my worst nightmares were coming true. This couldn't be happening... I thought, as I wondered who would find my cold, lifeless body lying by the side of the road the following morning… if they found my body at all.

"HELP!" I screamed, "SOMEBODY! ANYBODY! HELP!"

My hands grappled at the ground but found nothing to hold onto but dirt and leaves as I found myself being dragged backwards into the darkness of the trees by the unseen creature. I continued screaming, although I knew there was no hope of my being saved. I'd seen no one on the road. I was dreadfully alone.

And then just as suddenly, I felt the hand leave my ankle, and I didn't miss the opportunity to try to scramble back up to my feet. But something threw me onto my back again and pressed me down, making me yell all the louder before a ghostly pale hand covered my mouth, muffling my shouts. I closed my eyes, hoping that my death would be painless and quick. I thought of my father, Rose, Alice, of what would be their horror tomorrow morning when they discovered me, before my thoughts were interrupted by a low, exasperated voice.

"Will you _please_ stop screaming? I feel as if my head is about to split open," the voice spoke. My eyes popped open in surprise and I found a pair of startlingly green eyes looking at me in a rather annoyed manner. When he seemed confident that my screams had ceased for good, he lifted his hand from my mouth and rolled off of me with a groan. I sat up, shakily, and brushed off my clothes, which were now dirtied and torn from my fall. I looked over at the man who had pulled me down. He was still on his back next to me and his eyes were now closed. He wasn't dead. I could clearly see the rise and fall of his chest and distinctly hear his labored breathing in the night. I still had the instinct to run. He was well-dressed, his clothes almost a little over-fashionable, but that didn't mean anything. I still didn't know if he was a murderer or a robber or what. But something about him bade me stay.

"Who are you and why have you pulled me down?" I questioned him. His eyes opened to reveal the deep green behind the eyelids.

"Never mind who I am," he answered, "and as for your second question, I pulled you down because I need you to help me."

"How could I possibly help you? By the way you pulled me down, you don't seem to need any help," I said, resentful for the bruises I could feel forming on my ankle. The green eyes looked at me reproachfully.

"Well, you don't weigh very much. As for why I need help, look at me," he said.

"I am looking at you," I retorted, my eyes grazing over his face. He was handsome, there was no doubt about that. His green eyes were perfectly offset by ruffled hair the color of the bells that rang in the church steeple, and his features were straight and well formed.

"Look further down," he commanded. I lowered my eyes from his eyes to his nose. He rolled his eyes.

"Down... ", he said, as I moved my eyes to his chin, and he scoffed, "What, are you one of those Puritans who are forbidden from looking at a man's body?"

My eyes shot back up to his mocking ones now and I raised my chin, and crossed my arms, "I'll let you know, _sir_ , that I'm a respectable woman and was raised in a good household, not like any of those hussies that you appear to be well acquainted with..." Before I could even finish my tirade, the man grabbed my hand and put it against the side of his chest, hissing when my hand pressed against him. I gasped in outrage and pulled it away.

"How dare you?" I started to rail, "I am not here for your perverted pleasure, you..." And then, I noticed the sticky substance that coated my fingers where I'd touched him. My eyes widened as I raised my hand to the moonlight and saw blood on it. I looked at him again, this time where he'd forced me to touch him, and saw the wound that I didn't see before. There was a hole in his elegant costume and sure enough, it was stained with blood.

"You are hurt," I stated.

His voice dripped with sarcasm, "A wonderfully astute observation, Socrates. I was shot."

I ignored his jibe as I stared in horror at the wound. I'd never seen someone who was shot before and I couldn't imagine the pain he must be in. I sat up on my heels.

"Stay here, I will bring the doctor," I said, turning to run down the road for Dr. Phillips.

"NO!" he shouted, before he yanked me down beside him again and then, seeing my alarm, he softened his voice and said, "No, no doctor."

"But why?" I asked, "You are hurt. You require a doctor."

His voice raised again in exasperation, "Did you not hear me? I do not want to see a doctor!"

I crossed my arms in ire at this irritating man, "Then what exactly do you expect me to do?"

"Can't _you_ patch me up?" he asked.

I shifted my weight uncomfortably, "I guess I could. I have patched up wounds before, but nothing to this extent. Besides, that wouldn't exactly be proper, considering that I am a woman and you are a..." I blushed, turning my head away.

He scoffed, "A what? A man? Blast proper! Just pretend that I'm your cat or something! I don't care. Besides, it's not exactly proper for a girl like you to be out walking alone this late at night, is it? Impropriety doesn't seem to be a big concern of yours." I gaped at his rudeness for a minute, my mouth hanging open like a fish's. Then I closed it and resolutely stood up. Instant regret washed over his face.

"I am sorry. I should not have said that. Being shot brings out the worst in me, I suppose," he apologized. I stared at him and sighed. As rude as he was, I knew I couldn't just leave him here. There was only one thing I could do.

"Come," I said, offering him my hand.

"I can't exactly get up right now, you know. Otherwise, I'd have crawled to an inn and helped myself," he said, the sarcasm back in his voice.

It was my turn to roll my eyes now, "Why else do you think I'm offering you my hand?"

"Well, you will have to scoot closer. I'm not going to bite you, you know," he said sardonically.

I reluctantly scooted toward him and he draped an arm around my neck. I jumped at how warm his arm was around me. The touch of his arm on my shoulders penetrated straight through my skin, even though I was wearing an appropriately heavy cloak for the cold season. I quickly banished those thoughts from my mind as I tried to lift him up. But he was too heavy and I collapsed on top of him, pulled down by his weight. He groaned a little from the impact but otherwise stayed still.

"Never mind," he said, "I'll find someone else to come help me. Or I suppose I'll just die here..."

I set my lips into the hard determined line that my friends knew well. I wasn't about to give up just yet.

"I said I would help you. That was a promise," I told him. And then, ignoring his surprised look, I threw his arm around my neck and tried again. And failed. Strewn across his body again, I felt something hard bruising my hip and I looked down to see a wide variety of weapons and guns decorating his waist.

"Lord, no wonder you're so heavy," I exclaimed as I moved to disarm him. His hand flashed down and gripped mine, stopping them in the process of removing his weapons. His eyes were guarded.

"What are you doing," he quietly asked me. His voice was just as guarded and wary as his eyes.

"Well, isn't it obvious?" I asked. He didn't answer.

"These things are weighing you down. If you wear them, I'll never be able to get you up," I explained patiently, as if to a little child.

"I can't leave my weapons," he protested.

I pursed my lips, "Look, do you want to live or die? Just leave your weapons here and you can come retrieve them later."

He stared at my face for a second before letting go of my hand, and warned me to "Be careful." I let out a huff of exasperation and proceeded in divesting him of his arms. As I did so, I curiously examined each item, some of them things I'd never seen before. Suddenly, as I was examining one such item, it went off with a loud bang and I screamed, ducking down and covering my head with my hands. After my ears stopped ringing and my galloping heart had slowed to a more normal pace, I noticed another pair of arms covering mine. I hadn't done so intentionally, but my face was now in the crook of his neck, cowering there like a small child and he was... protecting me. He had rolled over so that his body was covering mine and he was protecting me. I lifted my head and looked at him.

"Are you alright?" he asked worriedly.

"Y-yes," I said shakily, "I think I'm good." And then his green eyes grew stormy.

"Didn't I tell you to be careful?" he chastised me.

"Well, that was the last of it," I noted, and then looked at him, "Thank you."

"For what?" he asked.

"Protecting me."

He raised a dark eyebrow, "And how do you know I wasn't simply trying to get my 'perverted pleasures' as I think you described it."

I blushed and said, "I really shouldn't, but I'll give you the benefit of the doubt."

He gazed at me in what seemed to be stunned silence as I lifted his arm to rest across my neck again. This time, I managed to pull him up to his feet. It wasn't easy, but I did it. It was then that I noticed how tall he was. He was more than a head taller than me so that I had to crane my neck up to look at his face. He was still looking at me as if I had grown a second head.

"What?" I asked him.

He shook his head, "Not many people give me the benefit of the doubt, you know."

"Well then," I said matter-of-fact-ly, "I supposed it's time that someone did." I walked over to the side of the road with him hobbling beside me, and I hooked my fallen basket with my foot and brought it up so I could grasp it with my hand. I didn't bother picking up the eggs that had fallen out. They were all broken anyways...

And so we continued down the rest of the way. I was no longer frightened of anything. For some reason, this wounded man gave me courage when I had none, and we arrived at the inn only short while later.

I stopped when I got there, a new dilemma presenting itself. I didn't know where to put him... I certainly couldn't let him stay in my room, and Charlie would not appreciate it if I put him in one of the guest bedrooms. Then, my gaze landed on the stable and I found my solution. Charlie never went into the stables, except to speak to Jacob, our stable-hand, about some matter with the horses, and in there was a loft that no one except I went to. And besides, even if Jacob did find him, I sincerely doubted that he would mind much. We were such good friends that I didn't think he'd refuse to help me tend to this poor man.

The stable was dark when we entered it, the only light that of the moonlight pouring in through the only window. The little room where Jacob slept was dark and so I figured that he must have been asleep. I looked up at the little loft that I was thinking of and the man followed my gaze.

"You're not going to put me up there, are you?" he asked incredulously.

"I have no where else," was my explanation as I laid him against a wall and went in search of a ladder and a rope.

"Well, how exactly are you going to get me up there? I can't climb up there myself and there's no way you're going to carry me up," he said.

I flashed a triumphant smile at him, said, "Easy," and showed him the rope I'd found and pointed to the pulley that glinted in the moonlight.

"Surely you jest," the man said in disbelief.

"I can assure you that I don't," I replied as I tied the rope around his waist and made a hard and tight knot. I set the ladder up against the loft and climbed up, the other end of the rope in hand. I pulled myself up onto the ledge and looped the end of the rope in the system of the pulley and gripped the handle.

"Just hold on," I called down to him. I was only answered by a groan. I used all my strength to wind the handle as the man began his ascent to the loft. When he was finally level, I steadied myself so that I wouldn't fall off the loft and pulled him onto the ledge. Panting with the exertion, I looked around for a knife to cut him out of the rope.

"I'm going to have rope burns for a week," he complained as I sawed away at his binds.

"Shhh..." I said, "Would you rather have still been lying there by the side of that road?"

After I'd removed all the rope, I tossed aside the knife and looked at his wound. I poked and prodded at the frayed fabric to see the wound better. The man looked at me curiously.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"What does it look like I'm doing," I retorted, "I'm trying to figure out what I need to take care of that wound."

"Well, all that poking and prodding is not going to do any good. You have to remove my shirt if you want to see anything of use," he said.

I gaped at him, "Now surely _you_ jest."

"Surely, I don't," he replied sternly and then sighed, "Fine, I'll make it easier for you." And he started on the top button of his shirt.

I grabbed his hand, squeaking out a "Don't!" But he only looked at me with that one dark eyebrow raised.

"You went through all that trouble to get me up here. And I'm pretty sure you don't want a rotting corpse in your stable. It might spook the horses," he said dryly.

I could only glare at him.

"You can close your eyes or turn around if you want," he said, "But you're going to have to see the wound anyway. There's nothing I hold more dear than a promise." I huffed. I did promise to take care of him so it seemed as if I really had no choice. So I crossed my arms and sulkily turned around.

After a few minutes, I heard a "Done" from behind me so I took a deep breath and turned around. What I saw rendered that breath useless. He was... magnificent. There were no words to describe his perfection and I barely noticed that I was staring. He looked back at me, his eyes unreadable as he watched me watching him, until I finally turned beet-red and averted my eyes.

"I'm sorry," I said, "that was improper of me to stare."

He shrugged, "You've never seen a man's body before, I can guess. It's only natural to be curious."

I turned my gaze back to his body and focused on his wound site. I brought my face closer to it and examined it. I could see the place where the bullet entered his flesh, and as I poked and prodded a little, I could also tell it wasn't too far in.

"Wait here," I told him. And then I went to find bandages, cleansing tonic, a pair of tweezers, a cloth, food and water...

I clambered down the ladder and quietly let myself into the house, but before I could go any further, Charlie called out from the stairs. I hadn't seen him in the dark.

"Why are you back so late, Isabella? And-" his tone grew horrified, "What happened to you?"

I looked down at my dress, all torn and covered with dirt and the man's blood. My mind raced to find an excuse.

"Erm... I stayed too late talking with Rose and Alice at the tavern, and when I went to the butcher's, he accidently tossed a raw pork leg at me. And then I fell down while I was walking home," I quickly explained.

"But I didn't ask you to go to butcher's today," Charlie said.

"Erm..." I said as my mind raced again, "No, you're right. But Rose and Alice had to so I followed them there."

Charlie sighed and then said, "Alright Isabella. But next time, don't stay too late and for goodness' sake, try not to be so clumsy, will you?"

"Yes, father," I said, my head lowered in repentance.

"Alright my child. Now clean yourself up and go to bed."

"I will, father," I replied and watched him disappear into his bedroom. I crept into the kitchen and found the medicine cabinet there. I thanked God that the cook was already asleep and I pulled everything I needed into my basket. I crept out of the house again and into the stables, climbing up the ladder to the loft. The man was still there and hadn't moved an inch, except for his head, which was turned to look out of the window. As I pulled myself onto the platform he turned his head to look at me as I pulled various items out of my basket. I took out the cleaning tonic and uncapped it.

"This might sting a little," I told him, as I dipped the cloth and dabbed it at his wound. He hissed, closing his eyes, jaw clenched as the tonic bubbled around his skin. After I deemed the wound clean enough, I dipped the tweezers in the tonic and inserted it into the wound. Sure enough, I didn't have to dig far before I found the little bullet and I pulled it out, gagging a little at the gore that stuck to it. I set it down on the ground and dabbed the wound with the cleaning tonic again. Then, I took the strips of cloth and wrapped it around and around his chest, where the wound was. Finally, I took out the small bottle of brandy I'd brought and handed it to him.

"To dull the pain," I explained. He downed it without a word, only grimacing as the liquor burned its way down his throat. He handed the small bottle back to a very surprised me, as usually I couldn't even taste it without sputtering. I took out the blanket I'd brought with me as well and covered him with it, then set the food I'd brought beside him. His eyes were already closing in exhaustion.

"Won't you tell me your name, now?" I asked him. His eyes opened up all the way to look at me, a strange expression in the beautiful green orbs, as if contemplating whether I was worthy of being granted the honor of knowing his name.

"Only if you tell me yours, fair lady," he murmured.

"My name is Isabella Swan," I said.

"Isabella... it suits you," he said, and then keeping his promise, he replied, "You may call me Edward."

Glad that I finally had a name to the face, I replied, "Alright Edward. Now sleep. You need your strength." And even before I'd finished the sentence, he was asleep. I lingered for a few minutes longer, staring at that perfect face. He was beautiful, dangerously so. I'd never seen anything like him in all my life. I brushed a tendril of hair away from his eyes and he sleepily turned his face toward my touch. Startled, I pulled my hand away and kept it to myself for the rest of the time. It was a while before I reluctantly left him to go to my own bed and slept, dreaming fitful dreams of emerald-colored eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

 **Isabella, Boston, November 1768**

I hurried through the town square, huddling further into my scarf and looking around me worriedly for any hint of red. Ever since the Redcoats came to Boston, no one could walk around as freely as they once could anymore, especially the women. The Redcoats were boorish and rude, and it was laughable since the royal proclamation that stationed them here stated that it was for our protection. They didn't hesitate to whistle at or even more enraging, grab, a poor woman who was just walking by. I've heard horrible stories from Alice and Rose of women who the Redcoats have thrown against the wall with no warning and searched for smuggled items, under their petticoats even! The very thought made me want to vomit.

As I walked across the square, making sure not to draw any attention to myself, my thoughts wandered, as they often did these days, to Edward. Thankfully, he was almost better now. I wasn't so sure of it for the first week. His wound had become infected and he burned with fever like nothing I'd ever seen, his usually sharp green eyes becoming hazy in delirious sickness. I'd stayed with him night after night, mopping his steaming brow with a cool cloth and smothering him with blankets when his teeth chattered with cold like a little wind-up toy's. And then finally, finally, his fever gradually subsided and he had enough strength to converse with me. Those were my favorite times with him. I was used to others seeing me as an ignorant little girl, but he talked to me as an equal, and gradually I came to learn about the affairs of the colonies and the rumblings of discontent that were occurring in town. I had been worried about the possibility of a war between us and England.

 _"Do you think that there will be a war?" I'd asked him one night, cupping a mug of hot apple cider in my hands. He wasn't looking at me and his eyes were far away when he answered._

 _"Perhaps. No one can tell at this moment," he'd answered. I was silent for a while, contemplating this possibility of war between the two lands. From what I've heard of England and her navy, it was predictable who would win._

 _"You told me that England has... a powerful military. Would we be able to overcome them?" I asked him._

 _He looked at me, his green eyes serious, "You must understand, Isabella; England may have strength of numbers and power in arms, but we have the power of our cause. We must believe in ourselves and in our country. I suggest you do the same."_

 _I ducked my head, ashamed of my lack of faith. But one more question was tugging on my heart, and I had to ask._

 _"If- if there is a war," I said, faltering, "will you fight?"_

 _His eyes were softer now as he regarded me, "We've been abused for far too long. We must stand up for our God-given rights, Isabella. I would be remiss if I didn't as well"_

 _I took a deep ragged breath. I didn't want to think about him going off to war. I'd poured my heart into bringing him back to life and I just didn't want to think about him being harmed ever again. Suddenly, I raised my chin and looked at him defiantly._

 _"Then I'll fight, too," I said, "I'll be right there next to you."_

 _"No! Absolutely not!" he said sharply, making me jump with his outburst, and then, apologetic, he lowered his voice, "No, Isabella. Your place is here."_

 _"What, you don't think I can fight?" I challenged him._

 _Edward laughed and the sound melted my heart, "Isabella, you can barely walk without tripping over yourself. Besides, if you come with me, I'll be concentrating more on keeping you out of danger than truly fighting."_

 _"I- I just don't want you to leave," I confessed, looking down at my now empty cup. There was a silence and then, Edward raised my chin up, his green eyes looking straight through mine._

 _"No matter what," he said, his voice low and earnest, "you must believe that I will always come back for you Isabella."_

 _"Do you promise?" I asked him._

 _He smiled at me, a smile that tugged at my heartstrings like an expert violinist at his instrument and said, "I promise."_

Warmth ran through me and heated my cheeks as I remembered that moment. My brain whirled with confusion as I contemplated the feelings that Edward instigated in me. He made me feel safe and vulnerable, confident and unsure, joyful and melancholy; I felt like I knew everything and nothing about him, all at the same time. I had no idea who his family was and I had no idea where he came from. He could have sprung out of bare rock for all I knew. And when I asked him, he was decidedly vague, as if he had some secret within him that he was hiding from all the rest of the world.

All I knew for sure was that I'd become very close to him. Our relationship sometimes frightened me in its intensity. My daily schedule had become something like wake up, go visit Edward, bring him breakfast, do my morning chores, visit more with Edward, help Charlie with the inn, visit Edward, lunch, visit Edward, help more with the inn, evening chores, supper, visit Edward, prepare for bed. Of course, I'd always waited for times when the stable was empty and I always made sure to either pull the ladder up or restore it to its hiding place. I felt bad for keeping this secret from Jacob; I usually never kept secrets from him, but something within kept me from telling him. Besides, I'd never had a secret all to myself before and it felt good to have something all to myself for a change.

I passed by the general store, snow crunching under my boots, and stopped, looking through the windows at the variety of items displayed there. It was nearing the holiday season and I was wondering what to get Edward for Christmas. Perhaps some cloth for a new coat and shirt...? His old ones _did_ have a hole in it. Or perhaps a shaving razor, so I wouldn't have to sneak him Charlie's every morning? Or maybe, since it was getting cold, some more blankets?

As I stood there contemplating, I was rudely pushed aside and I saw to my horror a Redcoat leering at me. He had a parchment in his hand, something that looked like a proclamation, and he seemed to be in the process of tacking it up. I stumbled back and covered my face with the hood of my coat and my scarf, scurrying to duck behind a narrow alley, hoping that the Redcoat would just walk away and leave me alone. Thankfully, he did just that and I emerged from the alleyway. I walked up to the storefront to see what he had put up. It was a warrant of arrest for a highwayman and my eyes travelled down to look at the picture there. I peered at it, eyes narrowed, strangely drawn to the illustration. There was something there... something familiar...

And then it dawned on me with terrible clarity. I knew those eyes. Those were Edward's eyes. And sure enough the text below read...

 _ **George the Third, by the Grace of God of Great Britain, France and Ireland, King, Defender of the Faith, etc. to The Sheriff of Boston County, (MA), Greeting… We command you that you take one Edward Cullen, Highwayman, if he be found within your bailiwick, whether dead or alive, to answer his Royal Majesty of a plea of Grand Theft equaling near 5000 Pounds. 100 Pounds is offered for his person…**_

Gasping in horror, I read no further for by now, I'd ripped the paper off of the storefront window and was now hurrying toward home, all the rest of my errands forgotten. I was ready to cry in shock and humiliation. I couldn't believe it! How could I have been so blind? Of course there must have been a reason why I knew almost nothing about him, about why he seemed so reluctant to part with anything regarding his past. And then I remembered when he'd first pulled me down off of the road and I only berated myself further for not taking note of his situation. Why was he shot? And if he was dressed so elegantly, he must have been rich, and if so, where was his entourage? All rich men had entourages. And all those weapons... It should have been clear to me that he must have received his income through foul means, but no. Stupidly, I blinded myself to all that and let him into my home. God! Everything I'd told him had been the truth and for all I know, everything he told me might as well have been a lie. I'd not only let him into my home. Even worse, I'd let him into my heart.

I stumbled into the stable, tossing my basket onto the ground, thankful that Jacob wasn't present at the moment.

"EDWARD!" I screamed, my fury at boiling point now. My voice echoed around the walls of the stable but there was no reply. _What_ , I thought bitterly, _was he afraid to face me? Did he even have that much shame?_

I dug the ladder out of its hiding place and slammed it against the loft. Wooden splinters and stray pieces of straw rained down on me, but I was past caring at this point. I climbed up the ladder, the warrant still clutched and crumbled in my tight-fisted hand. But when I reached the top, I found the loft empty. I stopped there in shock and looked around, as if expecting him to pop out from underneath the blankets, but there was no indication of his presence there. I scrambled up onto the ledge and dug through the blankets and the straw, as if he were buried there, but my fingernails scraped at the rough floorboards. Nothing. My heart pumped faster, panicked now.

"Edward!" I called, "Where are you? This isn't funny."

My brain raced through all the scenarios of what might have happened. He couldn't have been found already, could he? Despite the "dead or alive" clause of the warrant, I knew that if any Redcoats caught ahold of him, he'd be hanged without trial. They couldn't have found him that fast, could they? No one knew that he was here except me. What if Charlie had found him? And had known right away who he was? Or perhaps it was Jacob? Was that why Jacob wasn't here at the moment? Was he turning Edward in to the Redcoats? I was almost sick with worry as I slumped against the window, eyes squeezed shut and arms wrapped around my knees. I'd completely forgotten to pull the ladder up.

Suddenly, a familiar voice sounded in front of me.

"Isabella? Why did you leave your basket right in the doorway? What's wrong?"

My eyes popped open to see Edward looking at me, worried, as he swung his lithe body over onto the ledge and pulled the ladder up after him. I gasped and stumbled over to him, grabbing onto his shirt lapels as if they were a life raft and I was drowning in the middle of the ocean.

"Where in the world were you? I thought you were... were..." I was so relieved, I couldn't even finish my thought. Edward gripped my arms as I unsteadily swayed a little.

"Easy there, Isabella. You look like you're going to faint dead away. The stableboy went with your father to a horse auction so I just went out to retrieve my weapons. See?" And he showed me all the weapons I'd removed from him the night I'd brought him here. The sight of them brought back the reminder of exactly why I had been searching for him in the first place and my anger washed over my relief, clearing up my head and my thoughts. I pulled away from him and glared.

"Isabella?" he asked, uncertainty in his eyes at my change in expression.

"You deceived me," I said to him, my voice steely and cold.

"What are you talking about?" Edward asked me, his green eyes wide. I gaped at him. I couldn't believe him! He still dares to lie right to my face, as if he had absolutely no idea what I was talking about? My mouth closed with a snap and I threw the crumpled up warrant at his all-too-perfect face. Unfortunately, his hand flew up and caught it before it could hit its target.

"Then explain to me what this is," I said. He looked at it and seemed to sigh. And when he looked at me, his eyes were regretful. I felt as if a hole had been punctured in me and I was rapidly deflating. I was still holding out hope inside that this was all just some horrible mistake, but the look on his face told me otherwise.

"Isabella..." he started.

"Oh God," I moaned, "so it's true. How could you do this to me, Edward? How could you... could you... _lie_ to me like this, and right to my face?"

"I never lied to you, Isabella," he said stubbornly, his jaw set.

"How can you even _say_ that? Of course you did...!" I shouted at him.

He interrupted me, "I never told you that I wasn't a highwayman."

"No, Edward," I agreed, "You never told me anything. You led me to believe that you were a decent, law-abiding man who'd only run into a bit of trouble and needed some help. But I told you _everything_! EVERYTHING! How could you go behind my back like this?"

"Do you want to know why I never told you everything about myself, Isabella? I told you to _protect_ you. If you really knew who I was, could you keep a calm face when a Redcoat stops you and questions you about me? Could you really pretend that you've never met me in your life? I was only trying to do the right thing, which is saving you from pain and torture, Isabella, when they discover that not only do you know exactly who I am but also that you've been harboring me for the past month," he shot back, his green eyes flashing. I was not comforted by this as the idea of Edward as a highwayman still reverberated in my skull, making my head ache.

"Tell me, Edward. How many girls like me have you lied to? How many people have you stolen from? Oh God, how many people have you _killed_ , Edward?"

Edward rolled his eyes, "Really, Isabella. Don't be so naive."

"Don't be so..." I started in incredulity, "You broke the law, Edward. Not once, not even twice, but... God! I don't even know how many times!"

"God damn it, Isabella!" Edward roared, "Can't you understand? Maybe this is a hard concept for you to grasp considering the sheltered way that you've been raised, with always something to eat and never without a warm bed to curl up in but _sometimes you have to break the rules!_ However earnestly you may want to believe it, the world is not all rainbows and butterflies! All those people I've stolen from... do you think they _deserved_ their wealth?"

I looked away from him in fury. I didn't want to hear it, but he grabbed my face and forced me to look at him, at his piercing eyes. He was hurting me, my face smooshed between his strong fingers, but my pride wasn't about to let him know it.

"Look at me, Isabella! Do you think they deserved all they had? They stole their wealth from people who actually needed it. I'm no more of a thief than they are, except I don't hoard my riches and I never use it for anything except what I need to survive," he said. He finally let go of me and I collapsed on top of the straw, surprised by the sudden release. There was silence for a moment, as my anger simmered away.

"And for your information," he said quietly, "I have never killed anyone in my life. I only threaten, but that's enough for those cowards."

I kneeled there, my anger having drifted away into confusion which drifted away into emotional exhaustion. My brain was racing when all I wanted to do was lay down then and there and just... forget. The stables seemed to be ringing with the heat of our argument.

"What were you _thinking_ , Edward?" I finally said.

"What?" he said softly.

"Leaving here! I was worried sick! I had no idea what had happened to you! For all I knew, the Redcoats could have captured you already and I could have found you swinging from some tree branch all covered in tar and feathers by now. Or you could have been shot and hurt in some ditch somewhere..." I was babbling now and I was embarrassingly aware of the tears that now ran freely down my face.

"Isabella..." Edward said, his thumbs trying to wipe away the salty streams of teardrops that ran from the corner of my eyes and dripped off my chin. And then to my surprise, he brought my face to his and started kissing them away, putting his lips to each individual teardrop that ran down my cheeks. I looked at him in shock and he was smiling at me, his smile more brilliant than the sun, as he kissed his way up my cheeks and then kissed each of my eyelids. He kissed the tip of my nose and a strange feeling ripped through me, so that my lips parted a little and I gasped. Then, ever so slowly, his lips descended on mine and he truly kissed me.

I've seen lovers stealing a kiss here and there in the town square before, and I had always thought it a sweet scene, but I'd never thought it would be quite like this. Edward's warm lips on mine sent a jolt of feeling through my body and my lips perfectly formed around his, as if they were made from the other half of the same mold. I tasted the saltiness of my tears upon his lips, but most of all, I tasted _him._ He was addicting. His hands drifted from my arms to my waist and I shuddered as his touch sent a flare of fire through me. The feelings seemed so frightfully forbidden that I lost my breath and pulled back, gasping for air. Edward still had my hand and he knelt in front of me, so he was looking up towards my face

"You mustn't ever worry about me, Isabella. I promised that I will always come back to you and you know that there's nothing I hold more dear than a promise," he said, and then paused, smiled and said, "Well, maybe there _is_ one thing."

My eyes flashed up to his jubilant face, "And what is that?"

He kissed me chastely on the cheek and then whispered in my ear, "Can you not guess, Isabella?"

I stared at him, eyes wide. My God! Finally, I regained use of my senses and I resolutely wiped my tears on my sleeve and got to my feet.

Edward looked at me, his brow furrowed, "Where are you going?"

"I'm going down," I stated dully, "I need to think. And I just can't do that with you around." He didn't say anything and when I reached the floor, I methodically put the ladder back in its hiding place and walked towards the door.

Suddenly, I heard an "Isabella!" sound above me and I froze. I slowly turned around to see Edward's bronze topped head looking at me from the loft.

"Don't forget your basket," he said simply and tossed it to me. It landed at my feet. I picked it up without a word and walked out of the stables, closing the door behind me.

For the rest of the day, I went through my chores without a word, dazed with the billions of thoughts running through my mind. _Edward is a highwayman. And he'd kissed me. And... there was no denying it anymore... I'd kissed him back. Edward is a highwayman. And he'd kissed me. And... there was no denying it anymore... I'd kissed him back. Edward is a highwayman. And he'd kissed me. And... there was no denying it anymore... I'd kissed him back._ What did this mean? What was I supposed to do?

When Charlie came back with Jacob, he took one look at me and took me aside, a worried expression on his face, "What's wrong, Isabella? Did one of those Redcoats mess with you today in the town square?"

From behind him, I heard Jacob say, "If they did, I swear I won't hesitate to fight them." I shook my head fervently.

"No," I said, "No one messed with me. I just... I just had a bad day is all. And I- I don't feel quite well either. May I retire early tonight please?"

Charlie let me go and I walked up to my room. I carefully peeled off my clothes and pulled out the ribbon that held up my hair, letting the dark brown locks tumble down my back. I washed my face in the cold water and pulled on my nightgown and climbed into bed, curling up into a ball and staring at the light the moon shined through my window. _Edward is a highwayman. And he'd kissed me. And... there was no denying it anymore... I'd kissed him back. Edward is a highwayman. And he'd kissed me. And... there was no denying it anymore... I'd kissed him back. Edward is a highwayman. And he'd kissed me. And... there was no denying it anymore... I'd kissed him back._

One hour passed and then two and then three, but I was still wide awake. I grew aware of how cold it was getting and I wrapped my blankets tighter around myself. My thoughts turned inevitably towards Edward. He must be cold too, especially in that stable. Did he have enough blankets? I didn't think he did. At least not for this weather. I sighed and sat up, looking around my room. I couldn't believe I was doing this.

I got up and wrapped a robe and a shawl around myself. I pushed my feet into my slippers and crept over to my door, opening it just a crack. Charlie's snores sounded distinctly down the corridor and, satisfied that he was completely unaware to the world around him, I crept down the hall to the linens closet, opening the door and pulling out two thick comforters. I tiptoed down the stairs, cringing as my foot touched on the squeaky step, but no one came running so I continued on, grabbed a candle, and opened the door. The blast of cold air and snow made the light flicker and almost made it go out, but I shielded it with my hand and walked out into the night.

The cold air swirled under my nightgown, prickling my skin like a thousand tiny needles, making my feet hurry towards my destination. I reached the stable door and opened it with difficulty, finally slamming the door against the snow and leaning against it for good measure. I looked around the dark stable, relieved to find that Jacob was in bed as well. I didn't know how I would explain my sudden apparition in only my nightgown, robe, and shawl, and carrying two comforters to boot. I set my load down by the wall and got out the ladder, propping it up.

"Isabella?"

"I-It's me," I answered. My bundle tucked under my arm, I grabbed the candle and started my climb up, hoping that the flame wouldn't light the ladder on fire. But I made it to the top and I felt a strong pair of arms pulling me up onto the ledge.

"What are you doing here? It's snowing outside!" Edward said in surprise. He seemed to have been reading by the scant moonlight and the book was lying by his side. On the cover was printed the words, _The Social Contract by Jean-Jacques Rousseau_.

"I-I-I t-thought you m-m-might be c-c-c-cold," I said, my own teeth chattering from the walk to the stables. My arms were wrapped around me and I felt as if they would stay that way for ever. All my muscles were stiff and seemed as immovable as the stable walls.

"Good God, you're freezing!" Edward exclaimed as he pulled me towards him and rubbed my arms. When that didn't work, he simply wrapped his arms around me and held me to him in a tight embrace. The warmth that emanated from him soaked into me, through my night gown, into my skin, and all the way down to my bones, and chased away the cold. My teeth gradually stopped their incessant motion, but my muscles were still locked into place. Edward reached over and grabbed the blankets, wrapping them around both of us and laid me down onto the straw, his arms still wrapped around me and his legs entangled around mine. It wasn't the most dignified position I'd ever been in, but the warmth was addicting and I didn't complain.

"What are you still doing up, Isabella? It's past midnight," Edward said into my ear. I shivered a little at his warm breath, and thinking it was the cold, Edward pulled me tighter to him.

"I couldn't sleep," I finally admitted. Silence reigned for a minute. Then:

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you everything, Isabella, but I was really only thinking of what could..." he began.

"Shhh..." I said, and put a finger against those divine lips, "Please, Edward. I don't want to hear it right now. Just... just... just let us stay like this for a while, alright?"

Edward nodded and I burrowed my head into the crook of his neck, breathing in his delicious scent. Soon, every part of my body felt deliciously warm and was humming in satisfaction at the cozy environment they'd found against Edward's body. After a while, I felt him sigh.

"Isabella, we're going to have to talk about this sooner or later. But first, I have a question to ask you. Do you want me to leave? Because I can and I will if that is your wish. I know how I feel, but it's unacceptable for me to take advantage of you when I don't know your feelings yet," he said.

A small ironic smile lifted my lips and I remarked, "Yet here we are."

Edward stiffened, and then said, "You're right." And I felt him begin to pull away. Panicked, I grabbed at the front of his shirt.

"No don't!" I cried and his arms returned to cradling to me.

His voice was laced with frustration when he next spoke to me, "Then tell me, Isabella, just what is it that you want? Whatever it is, I'll give it to you."

I thought about it. Edward was a highwayman and in my mind, highwaymen were equal to evil and vice. But was Edward... bad? He'd told me earlier today that he'd never killed anyone, but he'd still stolen, and again, that was from people who didn't deserve their wealth, so he claimed. But how much could I really trust him? My mind whirred. What would Charlie think if he knew I was linked to a highwayman? What would Alice and Rose think? What would Jacob think? And then, as my eyes caught Edward's patient, waiting ones, I knew my answer. I shouldn't trust him, but I just did. And it was then that I found out I really didn't care what anyone else thought. All I knew was that I didn't want Edward to leave. Whether I liked it or not, I loved him, and that was the truth, as plain as the nose on my face.

"I want... you," I finally whispered.

"Me what? Me to leave?" Edward questioned me.

"No... just you," I said.

Edward smiled and said, "I can give you that. Heart, body, and soul." And then, he kissed me again, sending me to my own personal version of Heaven. Suddenly, he gripped me and turned me around, so that I was facing away from him. A little bit hurt, I twisted around to look at him.

"What was that?" I asked.

"Just to make sure I don't do anything we might both regret," he answered me and his eyes were dark with desire.

"Oh..." I said, and then, I asked reluctantly, "Do you want me to leave?"

"No!" Edward burst out, and then, "No. You can stay right here. Just... no more kisses or I swear I'll become insane."

I giggled a little, thrown off by the effect I seemed to have on him, and turned my head back around, nestling onto his arm, which functioned as my pillow, and threaded my fingers through his hand, which were anchoring me against him. I snuffed out the light, not wanting to risk burning the whole stable down if I knocked it over, and together with Edward, looked out into swirling night. Gradually, surrounded by his warmth, sleep began to overcome me and my eyes grew heavier and heavier.

Before I fell asleep, I mumbled a sleepy, "I love you, Edward Cullen," into the night, unsure if he was already asleep or not. There was a silence and then:

"And I thee, Isabella Swan."

I smiled at the words and soon, wrapped in Edward's arms, I was in the land of Slumber.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 **Isabella, Boston, June 1769**

" _Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,  
_ _He tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred;  
_ _He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there  
_ _But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,  
_ _Bess, the landlord's daughter,  
_ _Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair."_

The noise and clatter of the inn added to the chaos in my mind as I grabbed the four tall tankards of frothing beer that the cook had set out on the kitchen table. It was a full house tonight and the tables were crowded with men drinking and shouting. There was a rowdy group playing a card game in one of the tables to the left and, shuddering, I noticed a group of rather tipsy Redcoats to the right. Their bright costumes made them quite noticeable and despite the rowdiness of the inn, there was a distinct tension in the air and I caught many an eye suspiciously glancing in the way of the soldiers.

I approached the table of smokers whose drinks I had in my hands, and one of them leered at me as I set the heavy mugs on the table. HIs grey-tinged lips peered back to reveal a grotesquely crooked set of foul yellow teeth and I barely suppressed a shudder as I subtly edged a little away from the table. Many of the patrons were grabbers and I made sure to keep well out of their reach.

"Why, thank'ee sweet 'art," he grinned, "Now if ye could be so kind as to deliver some bread for me an' the men, I'd be mos' grateful. Mos' grateful indeed." He wiggled his brows at me lecherously as he blew a cloud of acrid smoke into my face.

I coughed, eyes welling up from the fumes, and said weakly, "It'll be right up." I scurried away, nose wrinkling from the nasty smell of the tobacco. I barely noticed where I was going and I almost crashed into Molly, the ruddy-cheeked, good-natured serving girl that helped Charlie and I with managing the inn.

"Goodness, Miss!" she chastised, as she swerved to avoid me, "You've been out of sorts today! What's gotten into you?" I quickly apologized and hurried into the kitchen for the bread.

Molly was right. I _was_ absent-minded today.

Edward had moved out of the stable three months ago. Naturally I'd protested, but he'd insisted that he didn't feel right taking advantage of our hospitality for so long. I'd balked, but he kissed me and swore that he'd come back for me as often as he can. And he did.

I knew he was coming tonight. It was his birthday today, and I blushed in shame to think that I hadn't found anything to give him. I'd spent all last night surreptitiously baking a little cake for him whilst everyone was asleep, but what was a cake to something more permanent? I'd gone into town to look for a new set of spurs for his boots perhaps, or a new bridle for his horse, but the new taxes both raised the prices of the goods in the stores and dwindled my supply of pocket money so that I barely had enough to buy a teaspoon of vanilla flavoring for the cake.

As I moved across the room, I noticed in a dark corner a vague shadow, who seemed to be following me with his eyes. I stared back for a moment, noting the half-full tankard of ale by his elbow. His face was half-encased in shadow and his head was wrapped in some sort of scarf, so that I couldn't see the particulars of his face. A scarf in June? I shook my head and moved on. We received all sorts of people here. But I couldn't help glancing back again before entering into the kitchen. There was something else about him...

Charlie looked up at me as I entered, taking in my rather frazzled appearance. His brow creased and he opened his mouth to speak.

"I'm fine, Father," I said firmly. I was tired and more than ready to head up to my room and let it be just me and my thoughts as I pondered how to explain my lack of present to Edward when he came, but we needed the money, and Charlie needed all the help he could get.

"Are those men bothering you, Isabella? If they are, I'll be more than happy to throw them out," Charlie said.

"Why would you turn away a paying customer?" I said, "Those drunkards can't do anything to me as long as I stay out of their reach. Some of them can't even grab the handles of their tankards on the first try. You know that I can take care of myself."

Charlie sighed and looked at me, "Yes, Isabella, I know." I busied myself with the bread as he lapsed into silence once again. Then he spoke:

"You're turning eighteen in September."

"Yes," I answered cautiously, wondering what he was up to. Birthdays were never big in our household. Especially mine, since it was also the anniversary of my mother's death.

Charlie's eyes were sad as he looked at me, "You've grown into such a lovely girl, Isabella. You shouldn't have had to learn to take care of yourself. If only Renée..."

My blood ran cold at the mention of my mother. We never talked about her and the sudden mention of her name threw me. The kitchen was suddenly silent and even the usually loquacious cook was quiet, her shoulders tense as she stirred the big pot of porridge that sat on the stove. Charlie loved me, but because of my mother, we'd never been particularly close. I'd never really sat down and talked with him about anything. The only words we spoke to each other were in passing, either about the inn or about some other trivial matter. I rarely regretted the distant nature of our relationship. I knew Charlie loved me and for me, that was enough. Sometimes, I'd feel myself grow a little bit jealous when I watched fathers in the town square lifting up their squealing little daughters and perching them on their shoulders, but then I just reminded myself of the freedom that Charlie gave me that most girls probably never had. We had a comfortable relationship.

But here, with that one unexpected little comment, I felt awkward and a bit bereft as I stood there. Charlie's face was rapidly reddening as he realized his slip.

"I was just thinking... last night," he said, "about how I don't know you as well as a father should. I feel as if I've missed out on most of your life, Isabella, and that's inexcusable."

"I'd like to-" he cleared his throat, "-I was wondering if you'd like to go out for a stroll with me on your birthday. And maybe I could learn a little more about you. We could go to the town square... maybe get you a new dress or something. You'd like that wouldn't you?"

I stared at him dumbly, like an idiot, completely caught by surprise until I finally found my voice and croaked out, "O-of course, Father. If you say so." Charlie acknowledged my answer with a half-smile. Stung by the pain that still lingered in his eyes though, I swept out of the kitchen bearing two mugs in my hand and the bread. My mind was even more distracted with first Edward's birthday and now Charlie's declaration. It was more than enough to make my head throb.

I neared the smokers and bent down so I could free my hands of the mugs and give them their bread, but before I could react, a dirty hand shot out and grabbed the loaf, not too accidentally brushing the skin of my cheek as it did so. I jerked away, spilling a bit of the beer on the floor as the man grinned at me.

"Thank 'ee for the bread, darling," he laughed and I rolled my eyes as I backed further away from the table, far from groping distance. As I turned around to head towards the Redcoat's table, my eyes brushed over the stranger in the corner again and I now noticed that he was leaning forward and watching me intently. His body was tense, as if he was about to spring up from his seat. However, his face was still in shadow and no matter how curiously I regarded him, I still couldn't figure out what it was about him that...

Molly brushed against me and her fierce whisper sounded in my ear, "What are you doing standing around like a lump for, Isabella? Move!"

I jumped a little, muttered an apologetic "Sorry" and hurried towards the table these mugs were going to. As I glanced at who was sitting there, I wished that I had stopped Molly and asked her to deliver the drinks. It was the Redcoats' table, and I could tell that they were more than a little drunk. I should have cut them off more than a few mugs ago, but every mug was money coming in (and headed out to the King's coffers, I thought sardonically), and we couldn't spare that. I squared my shoulders and headed over.

The two soldiers both smelled strongly of liquor and tobacco and I wrinkled my nose. They smirked at me as I got nearer.

"So late with our drinks, dearie?" the golden-haired one slurred, "Isn't she a looker, Laurent?" He made a grab for me but I swiftly sidestepped his arm and heart beating a little faster, I stood there and looked around for Molly. Where was she?

"She'd be prettier if she was faster with the drinks, James. Well come on, wench, and give us our ale!" the other one snarled. I looked at him defiantly, my chin held a little higher at the derogatory name and swiftly set the mugs on the table. But unfortunately, my sweaty hands let one of the mugs slip a little and it toppled, falling over on the table and flooding it with ale, which dripped over the sides and onto the blonde soldier's filthy boots. He sprang upward with a roar. Eyes wide, I fumbled for a rag in the pockets of my skirts. The bar had gone silent, as all eyes were on the enraged soldier.

"I'm sorry, sir," I stumbled over my words, "I'll get that cleaned up right away." In my fluster, I forgot to keep my distance, and so, I was caught off guard when the soldier grabbed me and held me hard to him.

"Sorry?" he said, "I'll show you sorry by the time the night is through." There was an uproar throughout the inn as I screamed when I felt fingers grappling at my apron strings. Suddenly, I felt a whoosh of air and a crack, and the fingers were gone. I turned around to find the stranger from the corner by my side. He held me a little behind him and his arm was wrapped backwards around my waist protectively, sending a familiar warmth; his other hand held a sword to the soldier's heart. There was a purplish bruise forming around the soldier's eye and it was obvious that the stranger had punched him. I looked up at the stranger's face to see a flash of green and I gasped. I knew who it was even before I heard the voice I could have identified amongst a thousand.

"Touch her again and there will be a hole where your black heart used to be," Edward declared in a dangerously quiet voice. I looked around to see all the other men in the room, poised around the scene, tense and ready for action. If there was one good thing about the customers, it was that even though they were lewd, rude, and crude, they didn't stand to see either Molly or I mistreated by another. I turned to Edward, opening my mouth to demand what he was doing here, especially with Redcoats in the room, when Charlie came rushing out, a pistol in his hand and his eyes sweeping the scene, finally landing on me, still clutched in Edward's arms. Suddenly, I felt myself being released and pushed away and I glanced at Edward, whose eyes had become a warning as he glanced at me. Stunned and a bit hurt, I backed away. He turned his eye back to the glaring Redcoat.

"What happened?" Charlie demanded. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. The absence of Edward's touch had taken away my feelings of safety and the aftereffects of what had just happened shook me. One of our more sober customers spoke for me, explaining exactly what had happened. Charlie's face turned first red and then purple and I began to worry that he would suffocate as he turned to the Redcoats.

"You will leave my establishment," Charlie said, his voice shaking in rage, angrier than I'd ever heard him before, "I appreciate your business but I will not have you coming here and terrorizing my daughter."

The Redcoat pulled himself up from the floor and dusted off his uniform, Edward's sword still trained at his heart. He glared at Charlie.

"You can be sure that the Governor will hear of this," he threatened.

"And once you do that, I'm sure he'll be just as happy to hear of how you tried to violate my daughter. Now get the hell out," Charlie shouted.

The soldier now turned his glare towards me, "Fine. The bitch wasn't that pretty anyways." But a warning shot from Charlie sent him and his friend running. Muttering, everyone began to migrate back to their own tables and Charlie strode forward, pulling me stiffly into his embrace. I patted his back awkwardly.

"Isabella," he said, "If anything had happened..."

"I'm fine, Father," I assured him, "Nothing else happened... I'm fine." Charlie sighed and let me go. His eye drifted from me to Edward, who was still standing a little bit behind me. Charlie's eyes narrowed at Edward's scarf.

"Who's this?" he asked suspiciously.

"This is the man who knocked the Redcoat down," I explained. Edward wasn't looking at me, choosing to look at Charlie instead. The hurt stabbed through me like a knife into butter. Was he angry with me?

"Thank you very much, my good sir," Charlie said, shaking Edward's hand enthusiastically. A silent Edward only nodded in reply, still not looking at me. Frustrated, I turned to Charlie. I needed to talk to Edward, or at least get him to look at me.

"I think this good man deserves a free stay tonight for his brave actions, don't you agree, Father?" I prompted.

"Yes, yes," Charlie nodded, "But I'm afraid we've a full house tonight. I don't believe there are any more rooms."

"I'll find some place for him to stay," I pressed.

Charlie acquiesced, "If you can, Isabella. And when you do, I want you to take the rest of the evening off. No more serving for tonight." It wasn't a question. I nodded, agreeing with him completely. I didn't think I could come back down after that, either. Charlie headed back towards the kitchen and I turned towards Edward, my eyes questioning. He shook his head at me imperceptibly and my heart fell.

"Follow me," I said simply and I walked towards the door that led to the stairs. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure that he was following behind me and he was. I sighed. At least he did that much, which was more than I expected following the cold reception he gave me. I grabbed a candle and headed up the stairs to the dark hallway where all the rooms were located and headed for the room at the very end of the hall: my room. I let him in and then slipped in myself, closing the door and locking it, so that no one would be able to walk in on our conversation. I set the candle down but before I could even look up, his lips were on mine, taking me completely by surprise as he kissed me like he'd never see me again. The damn scarf was discarded on the floor, revealing the perfect planes of his face that it had obscured earlier.

He pulled away and looked at me, his eyes tender now as he held my face in his hands, "God, Isabella. I thought that that bastard was really going to... that you were really about to..." He leaned his forehead against my own, cursing as he thought about what could have happened to me.

"Shhhh" I hushed him, "I'm fine, Edward. I'm fine, thanks to you."

"If I hadn't been there," he started.

"If you hadn't been there," I interrupted, "someone else would have come and knocked the brute out or I would have done so myself, which brings me to this question. Edward, what in the world were you thinking?"

Edward looked bewildered, "What do you mean?"

"You! Being there! With all those redcoats around? What if someone had recognized you? What if they had arrested you? What if..." I babbled on before Edward stopped the stream of what ifs with a finger to my lips. I stared at him, slightly angrily at his recklessness, slightly relieved at the fact that all those what-ifs had not actually happened, and slightly impatient at waiting to hear his answer.

"Isabella, I said I would come tonight, didn't I? Besides, no one could have recognized me. _You_ didn't even recognize me! You must have looked over at me about five times!" he laughed.

"I believe it was six," I mumbled.

"See?" Edward said triumphantly, "there was nothing to worry about." He kissed my forehead and I sighed. Now that this question was sated, there was another matter to clear up. I took a moment to compose myself and then looked up at him. I was trying to hide the hurt that must have been evident on my face, but I was not succeeding, which was why Edward took one look at me and said:

"What's wrong?"

"Edward... back downstairs, why wouldn't you look at me? Or even speak to me? Are you angry with me? Did I do something wrong?" To my shame, my voice cracked and trembled a little. And here I was, wanting to stay strong... Edward's green eyes widened and he cupped my face in between his hands, so that I couldn't look away or hide the annoying tears that were starting to form in my eyes.

"No, of course not Isabella! Never think that! As if you could do anything wrong!" he scoffed.

"Then why..." I started. The green in his eyes darkened slightly as he answered me.

"I love you, Isabella. I would climb the tallest mountain and shout it out to the world if I could. I would declare it to the heavens. But if someone had recognized me, if something had truly gone wrong down there, I would deny it. I would deny everything, deny ever meeting you, deny ever knowing you, deny ever feeling your lips upon mine."

I gasped a little at his vehemence that he would ever deny our love and my heart broke a little. Edward didn't fail to miss that and he hugged me tighter.

"Please, just let me explain Isabella. If I were to be caught, I don't want you to be associated with me. I don't want to taint your life in that way. If I were to be caught, if the worst were to happen..." he said desperately.

"The worst?" I said apprehensively, not wanting to think about that day, if it should come, when Edward would be forcibly taken from me.

"The worst," he acknowledged grimly, knowing that I knew what he meant, "I don't want to drag you down with me. It's better... that I go alone." I processed everything that he had said in my mind, the words not making sense until the very end. I opened my mouth and spoke slowly.

"So you would deny my love..." I started and Edward looked at me warily, wondering where I was heading with this, "...but how can you be sure that I will deny yours?"

Edward's eyes turned into stone as he understood what I meant and his voice came out just as hard, "You will."

I shook my head vehemently, "No! I will not! If you lose your life, then I don't want mine anymore. I don't want anything! If you are leaving this world, please, all I ask is to be taken with you!" Edward's hands left my face to grip his own hair.

"God, Isabella, don't say that!" he groaned.

"And why not?" I demanded.

"Because I don't want my... vocation... to cast any shadow on your life. All I want is to bring you joy, Isabella. Not death," he said, his eyes intense upon mine.

I shook my head, "Your death would bring about mine."

"No, it wouldn't. You'll keep on living, Isabella, continue brightening the world with your presence. You'll settle down with a husband you can actually keep a house with, and with whom you'll have a peaceful life, surrounded by your children, never having to look over your shoulder," Edward vowed, his voice laced with pain.

"NO!" I shook my head vehemently as I grasped at him, "I don't want it without you! Don't you see, Edward? I don't want any of it without you!"

Edward shook his head and I continued, "Think of it this way, Edward. If anything should happen to me..."

Edward laughed, "Like what?"

"Oh I don't know," I said peevishly, "what if something had actually happened downstairs? What if I got consumption? What if I was out riding and got trampled by a horse? There are many things. If anything should happen to me, what would you do?"

Edward's shoulders were stiff now and the words came out through gritted teeth, "Nothing will happen to you, Isabella. I won't allow it."

"How can you be sure? You can't be around me every hour of every day! Tell me, Edward, what would you do?"

"It's not the same thing," Edward said, frustrated.

I crossed my arms and stared into his face, "How is it not?"

Edward sighed and ran his hands through his now severely agitated hair again before he pulled me into his arms, "Just promise me this, Isabella. If anything, _anything_ , should happen to me, please... _please_... don't do anything reckless."

I pouted, "I can't promise you that, Edward."

"Please," he said, and his voice was so forlorn that it rocked my resolve like a cannonball to a toy boat.

I sighed, "Fine." Edward let out a sigh into my hair, but I wasn't done yet.

"But only if you can promise me the same thing," I finished. Edward tensed.

"No," he said firmly.

"Well, then, I guess I'm dead with you," I said.

Edward groaned, "Don't do this to me, Isabella!" I gave him a look. He mumbled something under his breath that sounded a bit like a string of curses before finally huffing and answering.

"Fine," he said unhappily. I nodded, sealing the deal. Now, I just had to make sure that Edward didn't pass before I did. As I pondered just how I was going to do that, it seemed as if Edward had the same idea as his voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Come away with me?"

I broke out of my reverie, my brown eyes flashing up to mix with his green.

"What?" I asked, the words not quite processing. His gaze was earnest as it bored into mine and his thumbs brushed against my cheek as he spoke.

"Come away with me, Isabella. What happened down there, I'll make sure it'll never happen again. You won't have to work a day in your life. We'll do everything the right way. I'll take you to the reverend. We'll get married. Just please, Isabella. Come. I don't want to think of you being put in a situation like the one you were in today ever again. And this way, I really will be able to fully protect you, the way I should," Edward pleaded. My eyes were unfocused as I saw the dream spreading out in front of me like a bright colorful map of the future. Edward and I exchanging vows in front of a snowy-haired sacred father. Edward carrying me over the threshold of a warm, cozy home in his arms. Edward and I cooing over a tiny crib bearing a beautiful, bronze-haired, green-eyed baby. Edward and I growing old together, sitting in creaky rocking chairs and watching our children grow up. Edward and I... Edward and I... forever...

But something interrupted my daydream and made me hesitate. Charlie. How could I leave him? The fact was I couldn't. I couldn't leave him without a reason, without saying goodbye. I couldn't leave him to fend for himself. He needed me, if only to help tend the inn. Words from earlier in the evening flitted through my mind.

 _"... I don't know you as well as a father should. I feel as if I've missed out on most of your life, Isabella, and that's inexcusable ...maybe I could learn a little more about you."_

I sighed, and I knew what I had to do. I knew my countenance was regretful and I struggled to fix it before I looked up, but Edward caught everything. His own face registered disappointment as he stroked my cheek.

 _"_ You don't have to do anything you don't want to do, Isabella. I'm not going to force you to come away with me," he said.

"No!" I protested, "I would love to run away with you. Please believe that I would, Edward! It's just that... Charlie..." My voice petered off as his sad face flashed in front of my eyes. Edward looked at me curiously.

I cleared my throat and continued, "Charlie... he needs me. Besides this inn, I'm all he has." I related what had occurred in the kitchen earlier between me and Charlie and Edward's face slowly relaxed to one of compassion and understanding.

 _"_ I understand," he murmured with a smile on his face.

"Do you?" I whispered, searching his eyes.

 _"_ Yes," he reaffirmed and then hesitated, "except for just one thing."

"What's that?" I asked curiously.

He smiled his crooked smile at me, effectively melting my heart even before speaking, "How in the world did I deserve such a beautiful, selfless, wonderful girl?" I stared at him for a moment before shaking my head as my mind worked itself back to the reason I'd been so air-headed the entire day.

"Maybe not that wonderful," I muttered under my breath.

"Pardon?" Edward asked. I ignored his question.

"Happy birthday, Edward," I said quietly as I went to retrieve the fluffy little golden cake I'd baked him the night before. I presented it to him and he smiled at me as he took it.

"Why thank you, Isabella," he said. I looked down at my hands. He cupped my chin and made me look at him.

"What's the matter?" he asked me, his brow furrowed at my discomfort.

"Nothing..." I stammered, "It's just that... this is it. I don't have anything else to give you. With all the taxes, everything else was just so expensive, and that was all I had in my pocketbook, and Charlie couldn't spare any more funds away from the inn..." I was babbling.

Edward shushed me and looked at me fiercely, "Isabella. You didn't have to get me _anything_. Just being with you is good enough for me."

I looked at him, "Really?"

"Really. All I want is you."

I smiled at him, "That I can give you." I kissed him again, my fingers entangling in his bronze locks. So deep was I sunk in the embrace that I barely registered the clink of the plate containing the cake as it was set hastily down on my dresser, all but forgotten.

Edward's hands roamed down my back to my waist, and I could feel each inch of my body that he touched come alive, triggering shivers that ran its way up and down my entire being.

But suddenly, Edward pulled back and I looked at him, confused, as he groaned and ran his fingers through his hair.

"What?" I asked him, sitting up.

"I can't do this to you, Isabella. I can't... it's not... " He stumbled over his words.

I looked at him, thinking things over. I only had a vague idea of what happened between a man and a woman behind closed doors. Charlie certainly never talked to me about it, and the only things I really knew about it was from juicy tidbits of gossip courtesy of Rose and Alice, who were both married themselves. I didn't really know exactly what would happen, or what people actually did. All I knew was that it would hurt at first, but it would become more pleasurable.

Then, I knew what my birthday present to Edward would be. It was exactly like he said. He wanted me, and I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that I wanted to give myself to him, body and soul. I drew him into my arms again and his breath hitched.

"I want this, too, Edward. I want to give myself to you," I told him, as I kissed him again. His lips moved down to my neck and sucked gently on my collarbone and I melted. There was a strange tingling in my stomach and I pressed myself against him.

"You don't know what you're saying, Isabella," Edward groaned, his head resting against my breast, right above my heart. I wondered if he could hear my heart pounding away within my ribcage.

"But I know what I mean," I countered.

"You're tempting me, Isabella, and I don't know how much longer I can hold out," Edward admitted, his voice laced with frustration and strain. In response, I kissed him and nibbled at his ear. His breath came out in a raggedy gasp.

"So just give in," I whispered in his ear. And he did. He attacked my mouth with a new vigor as I moaned, my hands acting of their own accord as they gripped his shirt, pulling it upward. I could feel his fingers on the ties of my bodice. His lips never left mine as he deftly undid them and removed it. Pretty soon, I was left in just my shift and petticoats.

His lips travelled down my neck as he kissed down to the hollow of my throat. When he reached my collarbone, my senses exploded and my knees gave out, sending me on a quick trajectory towards the floor. However, Edward swiftly caught me and lifted me up, cradling me against him. He carried me over to my bed and laid me down, his green eyes dark as the stormy sea as he looked at me in the moonlight. He reached down and stroked my face, so so gently, as if I might break. I took his hand in mine and kissed it.

"I love you so much, Edward," I breathed. His mouth met mine again before he replied.

"And I you, Isabella. For now and ever more," he vowed in my ear. I reached down to remove my shift, but quick as a flash, his hands were on mine, holding them immobile in a vice-like grip. I looked at him questioningly, but his face had turned to stone. Did he want to do this himself? Then, suddenly, his head was bowed upon my breast and I was surprised to find him shaking.

"What's wrong, Edward?" I asked, alarmed, "What is it?"

"I can't do this, Isabella," he groaned. I stiffened as a streak of pain stabbed through me.

"You- you don't want me?" I whispered. Before my lips could start trembling, they were stopped by a fierce kiss. I quickly lost myself in it as he stoked the fires of my desires. Too soon, however, he pulled away.

"Does that seem like I don't want you?" Edward's face was tortured, "Of course I do, Isabella. If only you knew how difficult it is right now not to-" He broke off, frustrated. I looked at him curiously. His hands went up to his head as he grappled with his hair, eyes wandering, looking everywhere but at me. I grabbed his hand and held it to my cheek.

"Edward," I reminded him, "I told you; I want this, too."

He groaned, "I want to do right by you, Isabella."

"You are," I argued, but he interrupted me before I could say any more.

"No, I am not. If I were a decent man, I would have professed my intentions to your father months ago. I would have procured a ring, gotten down on one knee, and professed my soul to be yours until the end of time. We would have gone to a holy father and we would have been bound together under the blessing of God and this-" he swept his arm across me lying on the bed "-this should be our wedding night. My god, Isabella, I was ready to steal you away from everything you've ever known, from your home, from your father."

He fell down next to me on the bed, our bodies lying side by side. His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose and his eyes were closed. Even so, I could tell that there was pain in them. I looked at him, contemplating what he had said. Then, I rolled over so that I was lying on top of him, my chin resting on my hands, folded over his chest.

"Edward," I prompted. His eyes remained closed. He didn't — or wouldn't — look at me.

"Edward, look at me," I ordered. He opened his eyes. The struggle in them took my breath away. I kissed his chin.

"Isabella," he groaned.

"Why not?" I demanded.

"Why not what?"

"Let us be married," I told him, smiling as I thought of the idea, "I don't have to leave Charlie just yet. I'll stay with him a few more years, just until the Redcoats are gone. Then it'll finally be safe for you again and I can introduce you to Charlie. He'll love you; I know he will!"

"But realistically, Isabella, we don't know how long the Redcoats could be here. They could be here forever."

"Alice told me that she had a feeling this was only temporary. She said that the Redcoats would not last in America, and Alice's feelings have never led me wrong before," I countered stubbornly.

"I find it difficult to believe that Charlie would appreciate having his daughter become the wife of a highwayman," Edward persisted.

I grabbed Edward's face so I could look him straight in the eyes, "Edward. You must understand this. All my life, I've made my own decisions. Charlie loves me and I know it and I owe him a great deal, but we've never been close. There's a distance between us that we've both grown comfortable with. He's always let me make my own choices. What makes this any different? _I_ love you, Edward. Every part of you. Isn't that enough?"

Edward looked at me for a moment, hesitating as he considered what I was saying.

"I have nothing to give you, Isabella. No household to be mistress of, no warm hearth to return home to."

"Can you not see that I don't care about any of that? All I want is you and me, Edward, forever and ever, until we both depart from this earth, and even after that."

"It'll be so dangerous for you, Isabella," he whispered, "to be connected to me like this is bad enough, but to be my wife?"

"I do not care, Edward," I stressed, "how could it be any riskier than it is now? No one knows about us now. Who would ever guess that a simple barmaid was actually the wife of a man with a bounty on his head? And as I have said before, whatever your fate is, so is mine. There's no one else in this world for me, Edward. Only you. We might as well let God in on it, too."

Edward was silent as I waited for him to give an answer. Finally, his emerald eyes met mine and the love that radiated out of them made my heart soar. I had my answer, and I let out the breath that I didn't realize I'd been holding this entire time. Yet, there was a reservation in his eyes that I didn't understand and that troubled me. I went into his arms as he kissed me on the cheek, holding me tight to his chest.

"Alright, Isabella. I'll make the arrangements."

I opened my mouth to speak, but Edward cut in, "But, there are some things I must show you before we bind ourselves to each other."

"Things?"

"Yes. I already know so much about you, but there are still parts of me and my past that I must show you, before you can agree to be mine for the rest of time."

I nodded furiously, doubtful that there was anything he could show me that would change my mind, "Yes, Edward. Of course. Anything."

He looked at me again, as if to make sure I really meant it. I tried to look as confident as I felt.

"In that case, I must leave, my love. There are many things that need to be taken care of."

He made a move towards the window, but I gripped his arm, stopping him mid-rise.

"So soon?"

Edward chuckled, "We've been up here for hours Isabella. Dawn is but three hours away. You can already hear the birds chirping. In fact, I'm surprised your father hasn't come bursting in here yet, wondering where you and that mysterious stranger you were with has gone."

I was surprised to find that he was right. The morning birds _were_ chirping. I didn't realize that so much time had passed by since I first let Edward into my room. I relaxed my grip on Edward as he strode towards the window. He cut a ghostly figure in the full moonlight that streamed through the open panes as he softly whispered for his horse. An unexpected chill ran through my heart and I shuddered. I grabbed my shawl, wrapping it around myself, and walked towards where Edward was standing. Suddenly, I didn't want to let him go.

"Edward," I said, "please don't go." My voice, I was surprised to find, sounded fearful.

"Isabella?" Edward questioned, surprised at the tone in my voice, "why do you sound so afraid?"

I looked down at my toes, unsure of the reason myself, "I… don't know. I guess that… I suddenly became so afraid… that I would never see you again." My voice trembled at the last word. I felt Edward's gentle fingers under my chin, lifting my face up to look at him.

"Isabella," he smiled, "I love you, and I'll always come back to you. Haven't I always promised you that? And haven't I always kept that promise? Though hell should bar the way, I'll come back to you. And you know that besides you, there's nothing I hold more dear- "

"Than a promise," I finished with him, as he softly brushed his lips against mine. His smile was brilliant as he climbed out my window to his horse waiting below. Just before his head disappeared out of view, I stuck my head out and called out for him.

"Wait, Edward!" I exclaimed, as he stopped on the lattice, looking up at me questioningly. I started pulling out the dark red ribbon that laced up my hair. When it was finally free of my tresses, I held it out to him:

"Here, wherever you may find yourself, I will be there with you in spirit, even if my body cannot," I solemnly said as he climbed back up the lattice so I could tie the ribbon to the inside of his jacket so that it laid close to his heart. He kissed me in the moonlight, my fingers still pressed against his chest.

When he pulled away, I was surprised to find a scarf around my shoulders, over my shawl, that hadn't been there before. I touched it and knew it immediately. It was Edward's scarf, the one he had to cover his face with today.

"And something to have me by," he replied huskily, "I know it's no pretty engagement ring, but-"

"It's perfect," I interrupted, wrapping the scarf up my neck until it almost reached my nose, drinking in the scent of it, "it smells just like you." A breeze came, pushing my loose hair over my shoulder as Edward pulled the scarf down to give me one last kiss. And then, as quick as a blink, he was on his horse again, his glimmering eyes looking up at me. I waved at him and blew him a kiss.

"Be careful, my love," I whispered.

"I'll come back for you, tomorrow noon," said Edward, "and if I can't make it then, look for me by moonlight. I'll come to you then, I will. Though hell should bar the way."

I nodded, "I will." I watched him ride way up the gleaming road, bright as silver, feeling my heart go with him as the hoof beats grew fainter and fainter until I couldn't see or hear him anymore.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

" _And dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked  
_ _Where Tim the ostler listened. His face was white and peaked.  
_ _His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,  
_ _But he loved the landlord's daughter,  
_ _The landlord's red-lipped daughter.  
_ _Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say—"_

 **Isabella, Boston, June 1769**

I suppressed a yawn that bubbled up as I helped Jacob load the horses' feeding bin with fresh hay. Although I tried my best to hide it, Jacob saw and he flicked a strand of hay at me with a smirk on his face.

"Wake up, sleeping beauty," he joked, "it's reaching midday. Why are you so tired?" I laughed as I picked the hay out of my hair and flicked it back at him.

"A girl can have her secrets, can't she, Jacob?" I teased him. His face fell as my words hit him, and I immediately regretted my jest.

"Since when have we had any secrets from each other, Isabella," Jacob said forlornly, his brow crinkled as he looked at me. I looked back to my work, not wanting him to see the guilt on my face as I lied. Even though I felt sure that Jacob would understand and come to accept Edward as a friend, too, something held me back from telling him.

"Never. I was only teasing you, Jacob. The moonlight kept me up last night, that's all," I replied, carefully keeping my voice light even while my heart was pounding underneath my ribs. Somehow, although I knew that I could trust Jacob with my life, I also knew that he mustn't know about Edward. Not right now, at least. I kept working at the hay until I felt Jacob's eyes leave my face, and I inwardly breathed a sigh of relief.

I had been friends with Jacob for a very long time. Charlie had taken him in when he was but five years old. I was with Charlie when we discovered the little boy that he was then. I was four years old at the time. We had struck out towards the farm of a friend of Charlie's who was moving his family south to look for more opportunities and was auctioning off much of his property that he didn't want to carry with him. As we rode through the forest, the smell of smoke reached our noses and curious, we followed the scent until we reached a burnt Native village. Charlie covered my eyes, but not before I caught a glimpse of the destruction, both human and structural, that had been sown through the poor little dwelling. To this day, I could still picture all the bodies that lay strewn and broken on the trampled earth. I remember asking Charlie what had happened and that was when he explained to me that while we had never considered the Natives to be any less than our friends and gracious hosts who allowed us to share this beautiful new world with them, there were others who did not share our views. Instead, they viewed the Natives as less than human but animals to be hunted and cleared from the lands that they believed to be rightfully all theirs, simply because they had the gun power to do so.

We were about to leave until we heard a little cry coming from one of the dwellings. It sounded like a child and Charlie immediately turned back towards the sound.

"What is it, Father?" I'd whispered.

"Stay here with Robert, and I'll go see," he'd told me, as he handed me off to our old stablesman, "and keep your eyes shut." I didn't have to be told twice, since I had no desire to see any more of the carnage in that dreadful place and I kept my eyes firmly screwed shut as I felt Robert's arms encircle me. But I kept my ears open and I heard Charlie's footsteps on the earth and the creak of a door. The whimpers that we'd heard faded and after a little while, I heard not one, but two pairs of footsteps, one heavy- Charlie's – and one much lighter, as we started moving away from the destroyed settlement. Eventually, we stopped and I felt myself being lifted off the horse and set onto the ground.

"You can open your eyes now, Isabella," I heard Charlie say, and I peeked through my eyelashes. My vision focused in on little dark arms, clutching Charlie's trousers, and a pair of dark eyes peering warily at me from behind Charlie's legs. It was a little Native boy, and he looked absolutely terrified of me. The little boy was Jacob, as we later named him. His parents had been killed in the raid of the Native settlement and he had been left all alone in that dwelling before Charlie found him. That was the day that Jacob joined our little family. Charlie decided that then and there as it was obvious the little boy had nowhere else to go and he could have found no better home then with us. I was simply happy to have found a playmate. Before Jacob joined us, it had only been Charlie and I and the rest of servants, and I'd been quite a lonely child as Charlie had neither the time nor the inclination to see to it that my days were filled with anything other than my own lonely games with myself and my imaginary friends. Now, I could have a real friend, someone of my own age that I could play with. And that's what Jacob became. In respect to the inn, he was a stable-boy in training, as Robert was getting old and unfit to do the work that was required of him, but in respect to me, he was my only friend until I found Alice and Rose, and I still held him very close to my heart. I taught him how to speak, read, and write English, and he taught me how to ride a horse, and how to recognize what in the forest was edible and what was not. He taught me how to tie and untie knots and I taught him all the fairy tales that Nellie, my old nursing maid, had read to me when I was but a babe.

And so we grew like this together through the years, and although Jacob slept out in the barn (he liked to be close to the horses, he explained when Charlie offered him a room in the inn), he was as much a part of the family as I was. It was true that Jacob and I shared everything together.

But, lately, something had felt changed and that feeling didn't leave me as I hurled the hay over into the bin. At first, I thought it was the fact that for the first time in my life, I was keeping something from Jacob, but it was more than that. Something had changed in him, too. I would catch him looking at me sometimes when he thought I wasn't noticing, and there was something in his eyes that I'd never seen there before. It made me uneasy. I felt self-conscious around him now, in a way that I hadn't before. Perhaps that's what made me keep this secret from him for so long.

Finally, all the hay was neatly packed into the horses' feeding bin and I laid my pitchfork against the wall, brushing my hair back from my face. Wiping my hands on my apron, I snuck a glance at Jacob, and was relieved to find that whatever doubt I'd seen on his face before was now gone. It was my old Jacob again, from my childhood days. I smiled at him and he smiled back at me as he wiped his own hands on his trousers, opening the door to the stable and leading out one of our mares. She was to be sold off today, and I was sad to see her go, even though I understood that we desperately needed the money that we would get from her. I walked over and patted her mane as Jacob fitted her with a bridle and a saddle. She nuzzled my face with her soft nose.

"Poor Bonnie," I remarked sadly, "I hate to see her go."

"I do too," Jacob said gruffly as he cinched in the leather straps of her saddle, "but you know the inn needs the money." I nodded in acknowledgment as I said my silent goodbyes to Bonnie. Jacob glanced outside as we both heard Charlie call his name.

"It's time for us to go," Jacob said, "it's almost midday and the auction starts at twelve-thirty." My heart jumped at the words "almost midday" and I glanced down the road, remembering Edward's promise to me. Jacob and Charlie must be gone before he arrives.

I turned back to Jacob, "Yes, you better hurry. You wouldn't want to be late." But I couldn't help glancing back to the dusty road, expecting at any moment to hear the hoof beats that would carry Edward to me. Jacob followed my line of gaze before I whipped it back to look at him. His eyes were dark, indecipherable as he slowly turned to look at me. For a second, something flashed in them that made him unrecognizable. For a second, he looked almost… wolfish. There was something hungry in them that made me shiver. But it was only for a second, so fast that I wondered if I'd imagined it.

"What are you looking for, Isabella," he asked me, as I scrambled to come up with an explanation.

"I was only wondering if it might rain today," I answered him, trying to keep my voice as steady as possible. And indeed, there were dark grey storm clouds on the horizon, "if it does, you and Father would be smart not to forget your cloaks."

I sighed as Jacob seemed to accept this explanation, kissing the top of my head before he strode away to pluck his and Charlie's cloaks from the hook by the door.

"Thank you, Isabella," he said as he swung himself over Bonnie, "we'll be back before you even think of it."

"Don't be too quick to sell her off," I called out as I watched Jacob and Charlie ride down the road, "she's quite dear to me. Make sure they know what she's worth!"

As soon as they disappeared down the road, I spun on my heel and raced back to the main road, watching to see if a tall, bronze-haired figure would appear from amongst the trees. But, there was no sign of him and it was past midday now. My heart beat faster as my mind played me a cruel montage of all the possible reasons why Edward would not be here right now, even though I knew that it was more likely that he had run across some banal difficulty in his dealings and that he would be back for me tonight. I was so intent on the road that I did not notice the hooves clopping up to me until I felt a horsey breath on my neck and a voice softly saying:

"My love."

I almost fell down in my surprise, but I managed to catch myself in time, and I turned around to see Edward on his horse, the golden buttons of his jacket glinting in the midday sun. Just inside of it, I could see peeking out the dark red of the ribbon that I had given to him the night before. I let out a sigh of relief.

"Edward, you almost scared me to death," I said, "I couldn't help but think of what might have happened to you." Edward extended a hand down to me and I took it as he pulled me up behind him onto his horse. I rested my chin on his shoulder as he turned his head and gave me a quick peck on the nose.

"I told you I'd come back for you, didn't I? Have a little faith in me, Isabella."

"I do have faith in you, Edward," I countered, "It's the rest of the world that I have little faith in." Edward spurred the horse to a trot and soon, we'd entered the cool shade of the forest, the main road slowly but surely disappearing behind us.

"Where are your father and Jacob riding off to with Bonnie?" Edward asked curiously, "That's not Jacob's usual horse."

"We're selling her."

Edward turned and looked at me, surprised, "Selling her? But that's _your_ horse, Isabella. You love Bonnie."

I shrugged, "I do love Bonnie, Edward, but there's no other reason for me to keep her. I like to ride her around the woods, but she isn't used for any work around the inn, and we really need the money. The inn hasn't been doing very well, with all the new taxes coming in."

Edward was silent as he considered what I had told him, and the only sounds for a while were the horse's occasional spluttering and the chirping of the birds. I put my cheek against his back, enjoying the feeling, the solidness of him. When he spoke again, the sound ran through me, tingling down to my toes.

"Then let me help. I'll give you some of the gold I procure and the inn will be just fine. You won't have to sell Bonnie."

I shook my head, "No, Edward. That wouldn't be right. I'm sure there are people far worse off than Charlie and I who need that gold more. Charlie and I can get by. Besides, I've already made him promise to try and sell Bonnie off to a local man, someone who's nice and will treat her well. Maybe, he'll even let me come by and visit her every once in a while. I might not be saying goodbye to her forever."

Edward turned around and gave me a kiss, a real one this time.

"Isabella, if Charlie only knew what a treasure his daughter really was, he would keep more careful watch over you, instead of letting someone like me whisk you away."

I blushed, "Anyone would do the same."

"I've seen many fine ladies, Isabella," Edward said seriously, "women who have much more material belongings in this world than you do, but your generosity beats all of them. Many of them care only for themselves and their looks, but you have something in you that makes you infinitely more rich and beautiful. You have kindness, Isabella. Beyond measure."

I blushed even more at his ardent words, quickly changing the subject before my cheeks could actually burst into flame.

"So where are you taking me, Edward?" I queried, "are we going to see the reverend, now?"

"No, not yet, love," Edward answered, "there's something I'd like to do first and someone I'd like you to meet. And we have much to talk about before we can pronounce our love for each other before Father Carlisle."

I desperately wanted to find out what more it was that we had to talk about, but I realized that Edward was in no mood to discuss it now. So I bit my tongue and thought about who we might be going to see, if it wasn't Father Carlisle.

Eventually, the trees started clearing out and the sounds of the busy town reached our ears. Edward reached around and wrapped his scarf back around his face, so only his eyes were visible.

He turned around to me and murmured, "Keep your head down, Isabella. No one ever recognizes me like this, but if they do, I don't want them to recognize you, too." I nodded, unwrapping the scarf from around my neck and draping it over my hair so that it covered my face like a veil. Soon, we entered the town and I heard the familiar cries of the baker and the butcher and blacksmith. But those sounds died out as well as Edward led the horse towards a part of the town that I was unfamiliar with. I peeked from behind the scarf to my left and right and what I saw shocked me. There were emaciated women with equally emaciated babies sitting in the dust of the road. They looked frazzled as their babies wept and wailed, their tiny little bird-like mouths open, searching for nourishment that never came. There were older children too, watching us pass with the saddest eyes I'd ever seen, their feet bare and dirty on the cobblestones. I jumped as I felt fingers on my skirt.

"Please miss," a wizened, gnarled old beggar rasped, "have you any food or change to spare?"

After I recovered from my initial shock, I patted around my pockets for something, anything I could give this poor man, but I had nothing on me. It was then that I heard:

"Here you go, Ben," Edward said, "and there's extra in there for some milk and bread for your grandchildren."

As Edward handed over a burlap bag of jingling coins, the beggar's eyes widened in recognition, and a smile broke across his wrinkled face, "Why, Edward! I hardly knew it was you. Thank you, my son."

"There's no need to thank me, Ben. It's not my money. It's simply your own just earnings that have been stolen from you by our gracious lords of England. I simply saw to it that it was returned to you. How are Mary and the babies?"

"Oh, they've been doing much better since the last time you came, Edward," Ben replied, "I can't thank you enough for all you've done for us. Jim is doing the best he can but even before the taxes are collected, it's only just enough to keep us all going. I'm only sorry that an old dog like me can't do any more to help than to beg." Ben's voice was filled with shame towards the end. My heart throbbed with pity for this poor man and his family.

"I'm sure you're doing everything anyone could do in your situation," Edward comforted the old man, "Besides, as long as I am here, you and your family shouldn't have anything to fear." At these words, the old man clutched Edward's hand and he stopped the horse.

"Edward," the old man rasped, urgency in his voice, "you must not let those bloody Redcoats catch you. There are posters of you everywhere now; your face is on every corner. And they've raised the bounty to 150 pounds. No one here will ever betray you, because I know who the Redcoats are. As soon as they give you the bounty, they'll take away all but two measly pounds for tax, and then where will we be? Right back where we started, and we will have lost you. But Edward, be wary. There are some who are still in line with the British and they won't hesitate to betray you for 150 imaginary pounds. Be wary, son."

Although my blood ran cold at Ben's words, Edward chuckled and placed his hands over the beggar's dirty fingers, "Ben, you know as well as I do that those knuckleheaded Redcoats don't have a thimble's worth of brain between the lot of them! They'll never catch me. I assure you."

Ben nodded and withdrew his hands from Edward's, "Just so, just so. All's I'm saying is that they seem mighty desperate to catch you and that, in combination with stupidity, never bodes well for anyone. Well, now I know that I have warned you. Godpseed, Edward, on all your ventures."

Edward bent his head towards the old man, "Good day, Ben." The horse continued to advance through the sorrow filled streets and I leaned in close to whisper in Edward's ear.

"Edward," I began, "maybe it's not such a good idea for you to be here, considering what Ben just said."

Edward turned his head slightly, his lips curved in a slight smile as he whispered back, "Do not fear, Isabella. I've been avoiding the Redcoats for quite a while now. If anyone can do it, it's me."

I tried to take comfort in Edward's words but a persistent fear still gnawed at my gut as we reached a little grey door near the end of the long alleyway. As I listened carefully, I could hear little babies crying inside, not just one but what seemed more like ten.

Edward rapped on the door before a female voice from the inside, shouted, "Come in!" Edward opened the door and led me in. The dwelling was small and dim but warm, and the smell of fresh baked bread wafted across my nostrils. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness of the rooms, I saw a woman hurrying towards us. She looked to be in her early 40s, about the age my mother would have been had she been still alive. Her face looked worn and haggard, but still, she was a handsome woman. Her face lit up when she spotted Edward and she flew to him, holding his face in her hands and giving him a kiss on each cheek.

"Esme," Edward addressed her, "I've told you; it's not safe to leave your door unlocked with all these Redcoats around now. And what are you doing saying, 'Come in' without even looking to see who it is?"

Esme gave him an amused look, "Oh fiddlesticks, Edward. No one comes to visit me besides you. Who else could be at the door? Now let me look at you. Are you hungry? I stuck some bread into the oven half an hour ago. It should be about done now." It was then that she noticed me standing there and her cheeks reddened, "Oh! I didn't realize we had company. Let's see, you must be Isabella!"

Edward laughed at the surprised expression on my face as I recognized my own name, "This is Esme, love. And you're right, Esme, this is Miss Isabella Swan, Charlie the innkeeper's daughter."

"Why, Edward," Esme exclaimed, "she's even more beautiful than you told me. You didn't do her justice."

It was my turn to blush now, as Edward replied, "Well, it's not easy to, Esme."

"It's very nice to meet you, Esme," I finally found my voice, "I'm sorry I don't know as much about you as you do about me."

"Well, I can see that Edward hasn't told you much," Esme said, as Edward looked down at his boots, "but come in and I'll find you two a place to sit so we can talk as much as we want. It's not civilized to stand about here in the doorway like this." Esme ushered us further into the small apartment. Upon entering the main room, I gasped in surprise. Every available space and corner was taken up by cribs and in each crib was a baby, some seemingly just born and some almost walking. There were older children, too, ranging from ages two to twelve, with the older ones trying to comfort the crying babies. Esme had returned with three crates in hand.

"I'm sorry there aren't more comfortable sitting arrangements than this," she said, but Edward took our crates with as grateful a smile as if she'd offered him a throne.

"Esme, are all of these children yours?" I asked in amazement.

Esme's eyes widened and she laughed in surprised amusement, "Oh heavens, no! Of course they're not all mine. No one woman could give birth to such a brood as this."

"Esme takes in children who have no one else to go to," Edward explained to me quietly.

"Oh yes," Esme agreed, "and it wasn't always this crowded here as it is now. It seems that there are only more and more unwanted babies with all these godforsaken taxes that have been placed on us. Women are increasingly left with no way to feed their children or dying trying to and so, the children come to me."

"I see, and Edward is… your son?" I ventured. Their relationship seemed very filial to me, and she was about the right age for it.

Esme gasped, "Edward, you really have told her nothing! Why, you have nothing to be ashamed of."

"That's because you'd let me get away with murder, Esme," Edward mumbled, as he looked anywhere but at her or me.

"Fiddlesticks," Esme retorted, "I've boxed your ears plenty of times when you were younger for you to know that's not true, Edward Anthony Masen Cullen." I sensed there was a story to be told here so I waited for someone to tell it to me. Eventually, Edward was the one who broke the silence.

"No, Esme is not my mother," he began, "but she might as well be, as she was the woman who took me off the streets when I was but eight." Edward looked up and saw my look of confusion, as did Esme.

"You'd better start from the beginning, Edward. The poor girl looks bewildered."

Edward took a deep breath and began again, "My mother's name was Elizabeth Cullen. She was the daughter of a wealthy lord who had come here to reap the riches of the new world. I never knew my father, never knew anything about him, except that he was a soldier, a Redcoat that my mother had fallen in love with one summer. But as it turned out, he wasn't worthy of her love. After she discovered that she was pregnant with his child, he left her and never returned and she was left to care for the babe all by herself. Soon enough, her family too discovered that she was with child, and they threw her out, disowned her entirely, declaring her a smirch on the family name."

"You were the child," I whispered.

"Yes, I was the child," Edward confirmed.

"Edward, you're of noble blood?" I realized.

Edward snorted, "Hardly. I'm what my grandparents would call a bastard. They would never claim me as their blood." I was sad for Edward, and sad for the cruelties in this word. To throw out your own daughter and to disown her little baby son! I couldn't imagine anything worse.

"What did she do then?" I prompted. Edward was silent for a moment, as if to steel himself for his own story before he continued again.

"She was high-born, so she had very little skills to earn her keep. She didn't know how to cook or clean, and so she begged for a few years. When she gave birth to me, she was alone, and she raised me alone, without any friends to lean on. All her friends had shunned her, too. She had no one. Eventually, some man made her a little proposition because I'm sure she wouldn't have gone to this herself. But because she desperately needed the money, she took the proposition, and soon, she grew to rely on these little propositions to live. Eventually, she saved enough money to move her and myself off the streets. It wasn't enough to rent, but it was enough to buy the materials and hire a man to build herself and me a little shack in the woods to live in. It wasn't much, but it was a roof over our heads, which was more than we could say for the streets. I was almost two at this point. We lived there for three years, and she continued accepting those little propositions to keep food in our mouths. It was all she knew to do. And while I remember happy times with my mother, she who loved me and kissed me, calling me "her brave little boy," _that's_ what many of my memories of my early life are: strange men coming and going from our little shack at all hours of the evening, some staggering drunks and some quite well-dressed, obviously wealthy. They never saw me. Mother wouldn't let them. Anytime she had men over, she told me to hide in the little cubbyhole she'd built for me, and that was where I'd sleep most of the time. But, I'd still hear them coming and going, and I'd peek out the little crack in my cubbyhole at them. Some of them were kind to my mother but many of them were not. Long were the nights when I would wake up to my mother's screams, hear her cries as a man beat her." His voice sounded sick now and I felt sick, too, hearing this sad history of Edward's mother. I felt that I wouldn't like what was coming next.

"Oh Edward," I exclaimed, as I made to move towards him, so I could take him in my arms, kiss that sick tone out of his voice. But Esme stopped me, and the look in her eyes made me understand that Edward had to get all of it out now, or else I'd never hear the rest of it. At this point, I wasn't even sure I wanted to, although I wanted to know everything there was to know about Edward. For a few moments more, there were only the cries of the babies in the background until Edward took up the story again.

"It continued like that for three years. Three years of endless nights. I was paralyzed in that cubbyhole, because my mother had ordered me on no uncertain terms that I was not to emerge until the men were long gone, no matter what I heard. To this day, I can't believe that I actually listened to her."

"You were a little boy, Edward," I cried, aghast, "what could you have done?"

"Something! Anything! No, instead I laid there like a coward and listened to her take the beatings, night after night. Her 'brave little boy.'" He was trembling now, and I longed to go to him, but Esme still had that look in her eyes, so I stayed put.

"I remember quite clearly the winter she took sick. I was five years old. I didn't know what it was then, but I know now that it was consumption. Near the end, she was coughing up a lot of blood and her brow felt like fire. Thankfully, the men had stopped coming. They knew what was happening to her and they were afraid that she would give it to them. We couldn't afford a doctor, so when she got worse, I ran to the town, begging passersby to give me the money and the knowledge to make my mother better. One day, a kind woman saw me on the side of the street, and she gave me a few silver coins to take to the apothecary and told me what to ask for. Her sister was sick, too. I'll never forget her face. I've always wanted to go back and thank her, but I never saw her again. I rushed the medicine back to my mother, but it was too late. She was gone. I stayed by her side for three days before they came and carted her away, like she was so much rubbish that someone had left outside their door to be picked up. That infuriated me. They had to tear me away from her. But that was it. She was gone."

Edward's entire body was bent over, his elbows on his knees, a picture of perfect agony and defeat. I had never seen him like this before, and it scared me. He looked beaten. I glanced over at Esme, and before she even completed her nod, I'd rushed over to Edward, kneeling at his feet as I took his face into my hands and looked up into his eyes. The pain in them took my breath away, so that I almost choked on my next words to him.

"Oh, Edward. My love. I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry," I murmured, as I reached up to kiss him, to kiss the pain out of those green eyes, forgetting that Esme was even in the room. His fingers closed around my wrists as I kissed him, still holding his face to mine, but he pulled away.

"So now you know, Isabella. Now you know who I really am. Can you still do it? Can you still marry me, knowing who I am? The coward bastard son of a worthless father and a whore mother?" he asked bitterly. My jaw dropped as I stared at him, while Esme exclaimed in horror at his language.

"Edward!" she admonished.

I only kissed him harder, and when I finally broke away, I looked into his eyes fiercely, "Edward, I want you to listen to me. Are you listening? _This changes nothing of how I feel for you_. I love you. As much as ever. Your father could be the devil himself for all I care. And your mother—she was only doing what she had to do to keep herself and her little boy alive. She may have been a- she may have had to sell her body, but for why she did it, she's more a queen than any in my eyes. In fact, she sounds like a lovely woman. I wish I could have had the chance to meet her. She must have been an extraordinarily good sort of lady to have produced someone like you. And Edward- stop blaming yourself for what those men did to her. There was nothing you could have done. Nothing. She was right to tell you to hide away. If that's what those men were doing to her, imagine what they would have done to you. And if that makes you a coward, why then, hang me now as a murderess. My own mother died giving birth to me. The doctor said that I had taken too long to come out of her womb. If you were a coward, then I'm something far, far worse." At this, I offered my neck up to him, as if for the noose. Edward swiftly bent down, but he only kissed it, and crushed me to him in a tight embrace. I returned it just as tightly.

"Isabella, love" he whispered into my hair, "no matter what I do, I'm afraid I'll never quite deserve you." I shook my head vehemently in denial of that sentiment. I was who I was because of my happy circumstance. Although I never got to know my mother, I still had a father who loved me, distant though he was, and who provided a roof over my head and food in my stomach. I had no reason not to be good. Edward was who he was despite his circumstance. Despite everything that had happened to him, he was not only good, but the best.

"Edward," I told him, "you told me once that the world wasn't rainbows and butterflies, that you were no more a thief than the people who you stole from. I didn't know what you meant by it then, but oh Edward. I understand now. I do."

A sniffle caused both Edward and I to turn our heads towards Esme, who had a handkerchief raised to her nose and was looking at us through teary eyes.

"Esme!" Edward cried in dismay, "What's the matter?"

"Oh Edward," Esme replied, laughing through her tears, "Don't mind me. I'm just so happy that you two have found each other. Really, don't worry about me. These are good tears, joyful tears."

Edward looked at me once before bringing my clasped hands up to his mouth and kissing them. Then he went over to Esme and before she could protest, took her handkerchief from her and tenderly wiped away her tears. This only made Esme cry harder. Eventually, Edward just gave up and held her, rocking her back and forth as her tears soaked his shirt. As he did so, Edward turned to me and said:

"I haven't explained Esme's part in all this yet. When my mother died, I was all alone in the world. She'd left me some money, but the same people who took her body found it and they took that too, proclaiming it to be payment for the disposal of her body, even though it went into the common mass grave anyway. But they didn't take the address she'd left me. I couldn't read just then, but I recognized letters, and so I took that little slip of paper, left the hut that I'd called home since I could remember, and wandered around Boston, hoping to match up the letters with a street name. Eventually, a cobbler spotted me and took pity on me. When he read the address, he was astonished. Yet he pointed the direction of the road to me and wished me luck. Well, I followed that road and when I reached the end of it, I found myself standing in front of this ostentatious manor, ten times the size of my shack. It turns out that my mother had left me the address of her parents' home, the very home she'd been turned out of, in hopes that time had dulled her parents' anger and that they would take pity on her little boy. But I didn't discover this until later. At that point, all it was to me was a big house. When I knocked on the door, a manservant answered it. He was about to turn me away before I handed him that worn little slip of paper. He asked me who had given it to me, and when I answered him the name of my mother, his eyes grew wide. He allowed me into the foyer and told me to wait there. There was some commotion inside the household, and then suddenly, a man came out with a woman following him. They were both older than my mother and later I would realize that these were my grandparents. They peered down their noses at me, looked at my dirty clothes and face, and the first words out of their mouths were, 'So, the little slut has finally gone, has she? Took her long enough." Then, I couldn't believe they were speaking of my mother. I know better now, and some days, I still can't believe it. To speak of their own daughter in such terms! They looked at me sternly, and said, "Well, I suppose she means to push her bastard brat onto us. I've no doubt that you're her son. You have her eyes. No doubt you'll bring the same shame to us as she did." And out the door I went. And then, I knew that I was very truly alone."

My blood boiled as I heard this. For the first time in my life, I wanted to hurt somebody. I felt a bloodlust for those awful people, who could turn a little boy out into the cold like that. And not just any little boy, but Edward! Their own grandchild!

"So, I had to fend for myself. I begged for a few months, but I quickly realized that the world had a dwindling supply of compassion. If I continued to rely on begging, I would starve. And so, I quickly learned to steal. Instead of asking for what I needed, I would simply take it. An apple. A pair of shoes. Some gold for a blanket for the winter. I survived like that for three years and I took it all without a bit of shame. Except for the day I met Esme."

Esme smiled at the memory, and continued Edward's tale, "He was such a tiny little thing then, Isabella. As small for his age then as he's tall now. I couldn't believe that he was eight when he told me. I thought he must be lying because he looked but five! But you know as well as I do that those eyes don't lie. Such a sad little creature. His clothes were less than rags. I thought they would crumble to dust when I touched them."

Edward laughed mirthlessly, "Oh yes. Clothes were the one thing that were difficult to steal. They never fit, and were either too large or too small. Well, I was thieving that day. They were apples from the grocer's. I'd already had two stuffed down my shirt when I caught Esme's eye. She was looking right at me, and I knew that she knew exactly what I was doing, and I wouldn't have cared if the grocer hadn't caught me right at that very moment. He had me by the shirt and all the apples had fallen out of them. He was shaking me, yelling in my face, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Esme hurrying over. I thought she was coming to corroborate the grocer's claim, since she'd clearly seen me sneaking the apples, but she surprised me. She rushed up to the grocer, and pleaded with him to release me. She claimed me as her own and produced the necessary coins to pay for the apples I'd tried to take. The grocer seemed undecided what to do at first, but it appeared that he knew Esme, so he took her money and let me go, bagging up the apples and handing them to her. Esme, never having let go of my hand, walked with me until we were out of reach of the grocer's eyes and ears. At that point, she bent down and looked me in the eyes. She asked me my name, where I came from, who my mother was. I told her all this honestly. She then explained to me that she knew the grocer, and that I mustn't be too cross with him for treating me so roughly. His little daughter was gravely ill and they were up to their ears in doctors' bills. They were struggling to stay afloat. I'd never felt any shame for my stealing until that very moment. I'd never thought about who exactly I was stealing from, but Esme made me see that they were honest people who were only trying to keep their heads above water in this world, just as I was. To my surprise, she offered me her home to stay in. I didn't deserve it, but she offered anyways."

Esme was shaking her head at Edward's last words. I glanced at her curiously.

"He's not telling you everything, Isabella," she sighed, "Just like him to leave out all the best parts of himself. He wasn't just stealing for himself then. Oh no, not even then. I discovered that he had a little following of other children. He was their hero because he provided everything for them. The shoes on their feet, the food in their mouths. Even then, his motivations had little self-interest in them."

"And of course," Edward said, smiling at Esme, "the dear lady took all of us in. We became her children and she became our adoptive mother, teaching us the value of a virtuous life full of compassion." He knelt and kissed her hand, sincere gratitude emanating from every gesture.

Esme sighed, "Oh Edward, there wasn't much I taught you that you didn't already know." Edward kissed her hand once more before returning to his crate.

"I stopped stealing for almost eight years. That was when the taxes first began, and I could see that Esme was struggling, what with all the more children coming in and the rising costs of everyday life, and so I started again. But this time, I picked my targets more carefully. I chose those who obviously profited off of these unfair new laws, and who profited off of them with seeming relish, strutting around with their big money bags, almost daring me to come relieve them of it. And that was the start of everything after."

"I was against it at first," Esme mused, "I wasn't about to let him risk his neck just for me. But then, I saw how much he helped this little alleyway of the poor and the destitute. So many people who would have otherwise starved, they survived because of Edward and the danger he puts himself in for them. I've never seen him keep much of anything to himself. By the time he's done handing everything out, he only has a pound or two left over for himself to buy the evening's bread and butter. And even that he gives freely to whomever he may encounter that looks hungry."

Edward sighed, shaking his head, "Esme, I brought Isabella here so she could learn the truth about my past, not so you could sing my praises." Edward looked so weary, worn out from telling the story of his frightful past as he turned to me with a question in his eyes.

"So there you have it Isabella. That's the entirety of my sordid past. Would you still have me, even now?"

I looked at him quite seriously before I went and put my arms around his neck, "Edward, I decided a while ago that it didn't matter to me where you came from. This changes nothing. If anything, I love you all the more for it."

Edward shook his head, a smile playing on his lips before he kissed me and said, "Isabella, you are incredible."

"Let's go find the reverend now, shall we?" I whispered.

"Soon, love. I promise you. There's one thing yet that I must do before we wed," Edward told me, "I wanted to give you some time to think this through, after you learned who I truly am, to change your mind if you needed to."

"Edward, you'd have to declare yourself a member of the undead to make me change my mind. I think I would still marry you even then," I said pigheadedly.

Edward chuckled at my stubbornness, "As you wish, love. In that case then, we shall be wed as soon I have the affairs in order." I could feel the biggest smile spread across my face as I thought of it. To be married to Edward! I felt as if I were in a dream. Only the warmth of Edward's arms around me convinced me that I was awake and that this was all truly happening.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 **Bella, Boston, November 2010**

Edward paused at this point in the story and silence hung in the night air as the only sounds were that of our shoes, softly treading on the earth beneath us. I contemplated all that he had told me so far of the landlord's daughter and her highwayman lover. After a while, I broke the silence.

"It sounds like the landlord's daughter loved her highwayman very much," I stated. Edward quickly glanced at me before he nodded in affirmation.

"Yes, so it seemed. The adoration was mutual. It was said that he practically worshipped the ground she walked on."

Silence once again as I marveled over the love that the landlord's daughter and her highwayman had known. Such was the stuff of fairytales. I myself had never felt such all-consuming love for someone. Even at the height of my relationship with Jake, I hadn't felt it. I loved Jake, that was true. In fact, I still loved him, but in a slightly more platonic way. It was a truth that I hadn't recognized until recently.

The silence wore on as I continued deep in my thoughts about the long-dead couple, until Edward broke it, his voice cutting through my brain-haze.

"What are you thinking, Bella?" he asked softly. I looked up to see his eyes watching me intently, as if trying to read for himself what I was thinking.

"I was just thinking about how wonderful it was that they knew such love in their life. It's always something you hear about in fairy tales, isn't it? But it's never something you often encounter in real life. At least, I never have. I wonder if I ever will." The words were out before I even knew what I was saying, and I blushed at having said them. I hadn't intended on being so uncensored, and I wondered what Edward must think of me now. I bet he found me utterly pathetic. I could feel his eyes on me still, and I was afraid to look into them, afraid of what I would see in there.

"Yes, it's the kind of love that everyone wishes to find in their life, isn't it? I wonder the same thing when I think about it," Edward affirmed. I was sure he was simply trying to placate me until I glanced up at him and his eyes were earnest, sincere as they looked into mine. My heart skipped a beat as the air around us seemed to be getting more charged. I tore my eyes away from him as I felt my heart speeding up, pounding in my chest. _Pull it together, Swan_ , I thought to myself, _you just met the guy_. _You hardly know him_. And yet, there was something in him that felt so familiar. Whenever my eyes met his, I felt a pull that was strong and heady and completely foreign to me until tonight. I cleared my throat and quickly changed the subject, trying to steer it into more neutral waters.

"So how do you know so much of this story anyways?" I asked him. "This all sounds completely new to me and I'm the one who actually grew up in that house."

"Esme is the one who told it to me when I was very young. It became a sort of bedtime story for me and she told it to me most nights before I went to sleep," Edward paused hesitantly for a second before continuing, "It's quite a sad story but for some reason, I grew attached to it and I demanded Esme recite it almost every night. Eventually, she grew sick of retelling it, but by then, I had it committed to heart and I would tell it to myself."

He shot a crooked smile in my direction, almost apologetically, "You must think I'm crazy."

"No, not at all," I quickly countered, inwardly smiling at the thought of a tiny little Edward, bronze hair mussed and heavy lids sleepily closing over green eyes as the story was read to him night after night, "there's a draw to this story. I feel it, too."

Edward chuckled, "You can imagine my astonishment when I realized that the new house I'd moved into was a mere four miles away from the old Swan Estate, the epicenter of the whole story."

I looked at him in surprise, "New house? But it looks quite old."

Edward nodded, "It _is_ old. I say new because it was new to me. In reality, it's been in my mother's family for generations. I believe it's almost as old as the Swan Estate. It's been renovated and expanded over the years however, and I made some changes myself when my mother passed it down to me in her will."

"Her will? Esme is—?"

"I'm sorry, I jumped ahead of myself," Edward responded, "Esme is my adoptive mother. My birth mother gave me up shortly after I was born. She passed a few years ago. Breast cancer. I never knew her until then, when I found out that she'd left me this house. In fact, Esme hadn't even revealed to me that I was adopted."

"Oh," I said, "I'm sorry. That must have been a difficult discovery to make."

Edward shrugged, "Don't be. I was angry about it for a while, until I finally read the letter that my mother addressed to me before she died. She'd had me way too young, and she knew there was no way she could properly support me, so she chose to give me up for adoption, hoping to give me a better chance with people who were more prepared to raise a baby. I realized that that, in a way, was its own kind of love. And Esme has been so wonderful to me. She _is_ my mother. I have nothing to complain about. I only wish that my birth mother had revealed herself to me sooner. I would've liked to have gotten to know her. In fact, it's one of the reasons why I chose to accept and move into the old place. I feel like it brings me closer to her. It just felt right."

I nodded, "It takes a lot of courage to recognize your own limitations, especially when it means you have to give up a child."

Edward flashed me a brilliant smile, "I'm glad you understand." I smiled back at him.

"So how did Esme know all this? I don't recall ever hearing it at school or anywhere else for that matter."

Edward paused before answering, his voice puzzled, "I… don't really know. I always assumed that it was a story everyone in this area knew, but if you've never heard it… Esme must have heard it from somewhere. There must be some old documents left over. Diaries and letters, perhaps."

I nodded and the night descended into silence again as our thoughts both returned to the story at hand. I was slightly loathe for him to continue it, because I had a sense that it wasn't about to get much better beyond this point. I desperately thought that maybe, if he never finished it, the lovers would stay the way that they were, happy and in love and safe. Edward seemed to share my thoughts, as he hesitantly asked:

"Would you like me to continue with the story? I have to warn you that this is the happiest it becomes," Edward said quietly.

I looked out into the horizon and I could see the faint glow that signified the front porch lights of my house. We were almost there. Although I dreaded finding out what ultimately happened to the lovers, I knew I had to hear it all the way through. I didn't know why the story had such a hold of me but I knew I had to hear it all the way to the end.

"Please continue," I whispered, bracing myself for what was coming next, "what happened to them?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

" _One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize to-night,  
_ _But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;  
_ _Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,  
_ _Then look for me by moonlight,  
_ _Watch for me by moonlight,  
_ _I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."_

 _He rose upright in the stirrups. He scarce could reach her hand,  
_ _But she loosened her hair in the casement. His face burnt like a brand  
_ _As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;  
_ _And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,  
_ _(O, sweet black waves in the moonlight!)  
_ _Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west._

 **Isabella, Boston, August 1769**

It had been two months since Edward and I had visited Esme and yet we remained unwed. Each time I asked him about it, all he would say was that he had preparations still to make. If I didn't know him better, I'd say he was getting cold feet, but his kiss and the love in his eyes told me otherwise.

It was only this that occupied my thoughts all through that swelteringly hot summer. The only thing that could take my mind off it was work, and Lord knew that there was enough of that. More and more Redcoats had arrived in Boston and we were law-bound to serve and quarter them, no matter how rude or unpleasant they were. I hated it, not only because of their manners, but also because it meant that Edward's appearances dwindled in frequency. Although I knew he would risk his very soul to come to me, I begged him to be cautious. I couldn't stand the thought of being the lure to his demise.

One good thing about the extra work was that it kept both Jacob and I busy in our separate areas. The change in atmosphere I started feeling around him several months ago had not gone away and it was more often than not I would catch him staring at me with that damn unreadable look in his eyes. It made me squirm, making me feel as if I were a butterfly under a magnifying glass. The only times when I truly felt at ease again with Jacob was when he would take me to go visit Bonnie, and her new owner would let me ride her for a few hours with Jacob on his own horse next to me. Those were the best times with him as we raced through the woods, wind whipping through our hair and the dappled sunlight dripping through the leaves. It made me feel as if we were children again, just "Jakey" and "Izzy" as we called each other back then. But invariably, these moments of light-heartedness would always end as on the way home, we would lapse into uncomfortable silences.

I thought about this as I sat in my room, brushing my hair in preparation for bed, absent-mindedly staring into the small mirror of my vanity as I did so. It was late enough that everyone was asleep and the whole house was quiet, leaving me free to lose myself in my guilt. I knew that it was high time to tell Jacob about Edward and I. He was my closest friend and he deserved to know. Alice and Rose already knew and it was unforgivable for them to know and not him. Yet, a small voice in my heart told me not to, and the very thought of telling him chilled me to the very core.

 _Tap-tap-tap_. I jumped at the sudden rapping at my window, dropping my brush with a clatter on the wooden floorboards. I froze. There were Red-coats at the inn tonight and I only knew of one person who tapped like that on my window-sill. Usually, I would hear the clip-clop of his horse's hooves on the road leading up to the inn, but tonight I had been preoccupied and what's more, I was not expecting him, especially on a night like tonight that was crawling with soldiers.

I closed my eyes, whispering a silent prayer that my clumsiness had not awakened anybody in the house. After a few more moments with my ears pricked up for any breath of sound that suggested someone was up, my heart began to slow down to a more human rhythm. Opening my eyes, I had to suppress a giggle at the shock of bronze hair that sprouted up just above my window sill. I tip-toed over and opened the window panes to see Edward smiling up at me, a twinkle in his eye. Although my window was high, he could just reach it by standing up on the stirrups.

"Edward," I whispered to him, "What are you doing here? It's not safe for you tonight. We are stuffed full with the King's men. What if somebody sees you?"

He gave me a quick and tender kiss before he said, "Everyone else is asleep, Isabella. I've been watching for the last 30 minutes and there's been no sign of a stirring soul."

I couldn't deny that he was right. The unearthly silence made it seem as if Edward and I were the only two people on this earth. I kissed him again, frowning in disappointment as he pulled away. I opened my eyes to find he was smiling at me.

"What?" I pouted.

He raised an eyebrow, "Oh, have you changed your mind then?"

"Changed my mind about what?"

"Going to see Father Carlisle."

My heart seemed to be doing cartwheels behind my ribs as the biggest smile broke across my face.

"Really?" I breathed, my cheeks starting to hurt with how wide they were being stretched out by my grin.

Edward laughed low in his throat, "Put on your best dress, Isabella. Lord knows I'd marry you even if you were dressed in a potato sack, but I do believe that Esme would have some harsh words for me if I didn't give you a chance to dress for the occasion."

"Alright then, Edward. Give me a few moments." I turned away from my window and half flew to my wardrobe, throwing open its doors. Luckily, I didn't have many options to choose from so it didn't take me very long to decide. I reached for the sleeve of my best Sunday dress before I hesitated, suddenly remembering the wrapped parcel that lay hidden away amongst winter coats. I knelt down to dig it out, biting my lip in nervousness before untying the twine and laying aside the paper. I had not touched its contents since the day I'd received it. I unfolded the dress and held it up against myself in the moonlight. It certainly seemed like it would fit, and it was far finer than anything I could ever have imagined myself wearing, but there was only one way to find out and the occasion was dear enough to me to warrant it. I shimmied out of my nightgown and dressed myself quickly and quietly, checking to see that there were no defects or moth-holes in the gown as I put it on. Luckily, it was perfect as if new and my breath caught in my throat as I looked at myself in the mirror. My only memories of my mother were from a painting my father kept in his office, but as I looked at my reflection, I felt as if she were staring right back at me. The dress would have been considered plain in high society, but I was not high society, and this particular dress made my heart ache. The fabric was cheap, but it was dyed a deep midnight blue, and patterned with the most exquisite embroidery. It was my mother's hand that had done it and it whispered of home and springtime, when wildflowers bloomed in the forest meadows. Unbidden tears sprang to my eyes, but I quickly wiped them away. I had never felt comfortable before even touching this dress, but now that I had it on, and considering the circumstances, it felt more than right. I grabbed the ribbon off my nightstand, quickly plaiting it loosely into my hair, before I headed back over to the window. Hearing my light footfalls, Edward looked up at me. I was surprised to see a light flush rise in his cheeks.

"Isabella," his voice came out dark and deep, giving me goosebumps that had nothing to do with the chilly night air, "do you have any idea how beautiful you are?"

I smiled, ducking my head as his sweet words called up a blush of my own.

"It was my mother's dress," I explained, "She wore it when she got married to my father. He gave it to me a few years ago, when I came of age. I haven't touched it since, but it felt right to wear it now."

He gave me a kiss in the moonlight, one that made my head spin. I lost myself in it, half forgetting what we were about until he pulled away with a "Shall we?"

"Yes," I agreed dreamily, still dazed from the embrace. I was just starting to push myself away from the window ledge, before I came to my senses. I stopped and looked behind me to my closed bedroom door.

"But how am I to get out of the house? I don't know if I can sneak out without someone hearing and with the way I am dressed, it would be difficult to explain away."

"Through the window," he replied, as if it were as natural as walking through the front door. I looked at his stallion doubtfully and Edward laughed when he caught my glance.

"What, don't you trust me?" he asked, kissing my cheek.

"Of course I trust you," I retorted, "it's the horse that's making me nervous. What if he gets jittery?"

"You don't have to worry about Steadfast here," he reassured me, patting the horse's neck, "we've been friends for so long, we're practically extensions of each other now. Besides, there's very little that startles him." The horse gave a soft snort as if in agreement.

I wasn't entirely convinced but the warmth that shined through his green eyes steadied my nerves as I grabbed my cloak and prepared to make my escape. Edward, standing in the stirrups, reached up and gripped my waist as I clambered through the open window, shutting it gently behind me as he lowered me down to the saddle behind him.

And then, we were off, soaring through the night-drenched woods as I laughed at the exhilarating feeling of being on an adventure with my love, his warm back heating my cheek, warding off the cool night air. Eventually, we reached the sleepy little town, Steadfast slowing to a walk as he hit the cobblestoned streets. His hoof beats seemed to echo through all the alleyways, but there was no sign of stirring, as if the town had been deserted, so fast were they asleep. Although I knew these streets like the back of my hand, it seemed completely foreign and almost ghostly without the hustle and bustle of the daytime crowds. A chill ran down my spine and I shuddered, squeezing my eyes shut to block out the sight. Feeling my tremors, Edward squeezed my hand in reassurance and I was brought back to reality. Opening my eyes, the world didn't look half as terrible as it did before, with Edward's hand in mine.

We made our way through the empty lanes until we reached the small church, where one window flickered with life. Edward slid off the horse before reaching up to help me dismount. When my boots hit the dust, he took my hand, leading me through the door. The familiar pews were empty of their usual occupants, in their place mismatched bibles pointing towards the central pulpit. But this was not where we were going as Edward gently tugged my hand to the side of the chapel, towards a door under which light flooded through the cracks.

When my eyes finally adjusted to the unfamiliar brightness, I could see that we were in a small office, lit up with candles that covered every available surface. Every other surface was full of books. The shelves were crammed full to bursting with tomes of every shape and size, and there were stacks of them on the floor and the desk, some of them bound by covers while others were kept together only with twine. In the middle of it all was Father Carlisle, who was smiling at us both, his eyes shining with benevolence. Next to him was Esme, her eyes sparkling with joy.

"Isabella, Edward," Esme greeted us, her smile lighting up the room as much as the candles were, coming forward to embrace us both, "I'm so happy to see you both here."

"Esme," Edward smiled back at her, "I hope we haven't been keeping you waiting long." He kissed her on the cheek in greeting, giving her shoulders a squeeze as she laughed.

Esme waved him off, "Not at all, my dear boy. I wouldn't have missed this for the world. Besides, the Father and I are old friends. It was nice getting a chance to catch up with him outside of the Sunday service. Isabella, you look positively radiant." She held me at arm's length to look at me and I hoped the candlelight hid the deep flush that I felt sure was creeping up to my cheeks.

"Thank you so much for being here, Esme," I said, "I had no idea that this would finally be happening tonight."

"I know," Esme replied, "Which is why I took the liberty of finding these two." She moved aside to reveal the beaming faces of Alice and Rose, who launched forward to envelop me in a mess of curls and laughter and kisses.

"Alice! Rosalie," I exclaimed in surprise, happy tears sliding down my cheeks, "I can't believe you both are here!"

"How could we not be? Our own Maid Marian is being wed to her Robin Hood," Alice teased, using her handkerchief to wipe away my tears as Rose smoothed down my dress, exclaiming over the lovely flowers stitched in. I felt a twinge of guilt as I noted the absence of a certain stable-boy, but the sound of a clearing throat brought me back into the present.

"Shall we get started?" Father Carlisle gently prompted us. Edward took my hand again as we stood before him, Alice and Rosalie falling into line beside me and Esme placing herself beside Edward. Now that we were all here and in our places, a sudden shyness overcame me, so that I blushed, ducking my head to avoid Carlisle's gaze. But I felt another set of eyes upon me as well, and I looked up to see Edward looking at me with steady warm eyes, confidence and assurance emanating from every pore of his being and permeating my own, so that all my shyness melted like winter snow under the spring sun.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony," Carlisle began, trying to look stern but failing as his eyes looked tenderly upon Edward and I as if we were his own children.

"Isabella Marie Swan," he continued, "Wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God's ordinance, in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, serve him, love, honor and keep him in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him, so long as you both shall live?"

My eyes did not leave Edward's as I softly said, "I do." His smile in response lit up the room as much as the candles did as he brought up the hand he still held to place a soft kiss across the knuckles.

Father Carlisle repeated the vows that I barely heard, so lost was I in the promise that shone from Edward's eyes, the promise of a love that I knew would sustain me for as long as I lived and longer, no matter if everything else were gone.

"I do," Edward answered, "With these vows, I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow, today, tomorrow, and forevermore."

"Then," Carlisle concluded, "I now pronounce you man and wife. May your souls always find each other, no matter how dark the road."

My heart was full to bursting as Edward kissed me amidst the cheers and congratulations of Alice, Rose, and Esme. When our lips parted, we were immediately embraced by the three. After much celebration all around, our little group made its way back into the courtyard as we prepared to say farewell to each other for the night. Alice, Rose, and Esme all gave me a kiss on the cheek as I heartily thanked them all for coming, wishing them a safe walk home. Before I knew it, Edward and I were back on Steadfast and the town was fading behind us.

I wasn't sure where we were going, but I hardly cared as I was quite content with my arms wrapped around Edward's waist. The last hour replayed over and over again in my mind's eye and I still didn't quite believe it. I was _married_! To Edward! It felt almost sinful to be as happy as I was.

Lost in my haze of bridal bliss, I didn't recognize the way we were taking. We seemed to be heading towards a part of the woods I had never set foot in. Eventually, I saw a light glimmering up ahead and soon enough, we reached a little log cabin. It was small and humble, but the light coming through the windows and the smoke winding out from the chimney was welcoming. Edward dismounted before helping me down.

"Edward," I asked, my curiosity now peaked, "what is this place?"

"It's what I've been working on the past couple of months," he answered, "I didn't want to marry you with nothing to offer. No household, no title, no legacy or name. Current affairs don't allow me to buy property. The Redcoats would be swarming around any place with my name on the deed. My mother's name, however…"

"This is your mother's place?" I turned to him in awe, "Where you lived with her as a child?"

Edward looked pained as he gently squeezed my hand in his, "Yes, more or less. As you know, this place doesn't have a happy history, which is why I took the liberty of tearing it down and rebuilding it. Hopefully, its new form lends to a new future, brighter than the past. It's still not much, but it may be a place we can call our own, a place you could run to if you ever find yourself in trouble. No one else knows of this other than you, me, and Esme, and it's well hidden. I've hid out here in perilous times for years and it's never betrayed me."

My vision blurred with tears as I gazed upon the wooden edifice, a physical monument of Edward's love for me. I could barely wrap my mind around the fact that this man had built a house for me. As I looked upon it, images of an imagined future came to mind. Edward coming home to greet me with a kiss as I waited for him by the door, children playing on the lawn, Edward and I growing old, bouncing grandchildren in our laps as we sat amongst the trees. While these were dreams I had only pictured to myself before, they seemed much more tangible now that there was a place to hold them.

I didn't realize that my tears were being misinterpreted until Edward wiped them away saying, "You do not have to live here if it upsets you, Isabella. I could always find some other place for us."

Some other place?! Blast the thought! I quickly brushed the rest of my tears away myself before reassuring him, "No, Edward. These are tears of happiness. I love it so much, it already feels like I'm coming home. I can't imagine being anywhere else. Please, take me inside."

I yelped in surprise as he unexpectedly swept me up into his arms before placing a kiss on my nose.

"You're an incredible woman, Isabella Swan."

"Isabella Cullen," I reminded him, liking the feel of the new name on my tongue. He smiled wide at the change, making my soul thrill by repeating it (it sounded even better through his lips), before he carried me into the house, setting me down just beyond the threshold and closing the door behind him. As I looked around my new home, he took my cloak and hung it on a hook by the door. The room was simple – there was only one – but it was cozy. There was a fire crackling merrily in the fireplace. In the corner opposite, not far from the fire, was a bed just big enough for two covered with a bright quilt sporting a lovely pattern. A little table with two chairs occupied the far corner, a vase in the middle of it with wildflowers that must have been just picked, so fresh they were. Everything was lovely in its simplicity and I couldn't have asked for more.

"Oh, Edward," I sighed, unable to express in words my overflowing emotions at seeing what he had built for me.

"Esme made the quilt," Edward said, "The rest of the furniture was me. It's a little rough but – "

"It's perfect," I interrupted him, bringing my lips to his for a kiss. His mouth was soft and warm on mine as my hands travelled up to his cheek to hold his face against mine. My lips parted to let out a little gasp as I felt the heat of his hands on my waist. He gently probed the border of my lower lip, requesting entrance that I gladly granted. As we explored each other, I felt heated, not by the fire, but by the strength of my desire. It was enough to make my knees week, and as Edward's kisses trailed down my neck, it consumed me. I would have crumpled to the floor had Edward not had a strong grip on me.

His eyes were dark and his voice low as he whispered, "I want you, Isabella."

"You have me," I replied, as I retreated a few steps back and reached behind me to undo the fastenings of my beautiful dress. His eyes got darker still as I let the gown fall to the floor and stepped out of it, dressed only in my shift and petticoats. No sooner had I done so, he crossed the remaining space between us in less than a stride, taking me into his arms again with a passionate kiss that stoked the fires of my longing to new heights. Although he only had one hand in my hair and the other at my waist, I could feel his touch everywhere, to my very core. Trembling, I hardly noticed that we were moving until I felt the edge of the bed behind my knees and we tumbled onto the soft mattress.

He trailed light, airy kisses down my neck, so gently that I barely knew if he was kissing me or merely the air above my skin. He stopped when he reached the boundary of my shift and I looked down to meet his questioning eyes. I took a deep breath, resolving to leave my maiden days behind me forever and nodded slightly. His gaze never left mine as he began to unbutton my shift. When he reached the last button, he slowly spread the shift aside, bit by bit until he finally removed the entire piece from my body. Pretty soon, the petticoat was gone, too, and I lay before him, naked as the day I was born. The only sound in the room was the snapping of the fire as he looked at me with those indecipherable eyes of his and my face began to burn with shame of my nakedness. Just as my eyes started to sting as I began to think that maybe Edward was regretting all this, he broke the silence.

"Isabella, you are beautiful beyond belief." And he smiled at me, a smile that banished any bit of tears that were threatening to overspill onto my cheeks. I made a sound halfway between a laugh and a cry. The sound caught in my throat as I watched him remove his own clothing, tossing it aside. My God, he was magnificent, and I couldn't help but reach out and place my hand against his chest, feeling the reassuring beat of his heart against my palm.

His lips met my burning skin as he kissed me on the cheek, working his way down my body. My need flared higher and higher each time his skin touched mine and when his mouth latched onto my breast, it burst into a veritable inferno, eliciting a strange strangled sort of cry from my lips.

"Edward!" I gasped, and his hand grasped mine, reassurance passing like a stream from him to me. I felt a heat between my legs as his lips trailed down to my stomach. I nearly lost my mind when I felt his tongue trace a circle around the indentation there and my back arched automatically, as if my skin were magically drawn to his.

When I felt his warm breath between my legs and his strong fingers on my thighs, I froze, unsure of what would happen from here and curious as to what would come next. What he did shocked me- and my senses -beyond measure.

He kissed me at that hidden place where my legs met and my nerves went into overload. I bucked against him, moaning, as he held me steady, driving me crazy with the long strokes of his tongue against my folds.

"Edward," I breathed, "please." I begged without any idea what I was begging for. I was disappointed when he stopped what he had been doing, but that disappointment quickly faded when he came back up to kiss my lips. My fingertips grazed his shoulder and I felt him shudder as he sat up. It was only then that I noticed he had managed to remove his breeches while I was otherwise… preoccupied. My eyes were drawn towards that part of him I had never seen and although I knew Edward would never hurt me, the sight of it filled me with a certain amount of apprehension.

Perhaps Edward caught that little flicker of doubt because he bent down to kiss me again before saying, "You're in control here, Isabella. I won't make you do anything you don't want to. You're my wife and I daresay you may have more power over me than I do over you."

I recaptured his lips with mine before reassuring him, "I want to do this Edward. More than anything." He lingered in the kiss before sitting back up again, his hand forging a trail of fire as it traveled back down my body to rub against my center. I bet my lip at the pleasure that shot through me, surprised to find how wet I was down there.

He looked at me as he positioned himself and I watched, unable to tear my eyes away, still a bit fearful, but quite a bit more fascinated at what might happen. He caught my eye and I looked at him, his eyes dark in the firelight as he started to push his way into me. My eyelids fluttered as the new sensations overwhelmed me, my mouth gaping open in a silent sigh.

Suddenly, I felt him hit a barrier within me and my eyes popped open. He was only an inch or two into me and I wondered at the shallowness. Somehow, it didn't feel quite right.

"Edward?" I asked him. His shoulders were tense as he seemed to hesitate.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" he asked me, "I can promise you that this is going to hurt."

I looked at him firmly, "Yes, Edward. I'm sure." He placed a slow, lingering kiss as he pushed further into me. I felt something stretching, stretching, stretching until suddenly, it gave way. I cried out, whimpering against his lips as the pain shot through me like an arrow, and I clutched Edward's shoulders, trying to catch my breath as I waited for the hurt to subside.

"I'm sorry," Edward said as he kissed the tears that overflowed from my eyes, "I'm sorry." He repeated it over and over, like a mantra. Then, I felt him starting to retreat and in a panic, I gripped him with my legs and held him there. He froze.

"Don't leave," I begged, "please. Continue." I could see him hesitate as his eyes searched my face, but I was resolute. Slowly, slowly, he pushed into me again and I arched, the pain now transformed into a slow burning fire that spread through me and exited as a cry of pleasure from my throat. Edward continued his slow steady movement, creating such sensations within me that I thought I might go crazy.

"Please," I said hoarsely, "More." And he did so. The pleasure mounted, growing stronger and stronger.

"Isabella, I can't hold on much longer," Edward panted in my ear.

"Then don't," I gasped. His mouth covered mine and our tongues danced with each other until finally, I broke away, gasping for breath as I felt the pleasure break and wash over me. I cried out, feeling the muscles within me, muscles I didn't even know I had, clenching around him as I felt his back tense and shudder, his voice carrying my name, mingling with my own breathing as we both lay there, overcome by the intensity of our union.

We were still connected when Edward pressed his lips to my temple. My eyes were closed as I breathed in the scent of him and we stayed like that for a while. A light rain had begun to fall outside, pitter-pattering against the window, but we were warmed not just by the merry fire but by the blissful heat of our own bodies.

We spent the night enjoying the more carnal pleasures of being man and wife a few more times. It never hurt again like that very first time, although Edward always approached me as if it were, always so gentle and careful. Eventually, we fell asleep, curled up against each other, snug as two squirrels in their drey, happy in our own little humble slice of heaven.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

 _He did not come in the dawning. He did not come at noon;  
And out of the tawny sunset, before the rise of the moon,  
When the road was a gypsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor,  
A red-coat troop came marching—  
Marching—marching—  
King George's men came marching, up to the old inn-door. _

**Isabella Cullen, Boston, November 1769**

I sighed as I nestled closer into Edward's side under the covers. We were lying there, a tangle of limbs, his arm encircling me as his thumb rubbed comforting circles on my shoulder. His heartbeat against my hand lying on the center of his chest steadied me. Outside, the world was just beginning to awake and I could hear the early morning stirrings of the forest animals, reminding me that dawn was here. I tried my best to ignore it, as if that would delay the coming of the day, but I knew that soon it would be time to return to the world of reality, the world of the inn.

Edward and I didn't have the most conventional marriage, but what we had was ours, and I treasured it for that alone. The only time we could have together as husband and wife were only stolen nights here and there, whenever I could sneak away from the inn and meet him in this little hideaway he built for us, this little corner of dreams where the future seemed close enough to grasp and the problems at hand didn't seem to matter as much anymore. I could forget about the constant danger that Edward was in, about how the number of Redcoats arriving on our shores only seemed to be growing by the day. In my own bed, I would have nightmares, dark images of marching red troops, trampling the forest floor, cutting through the trees on their way to our little home, where Edward was waiting for me, completely unaware of the coming danger. In the dream, I would scream and scream, running as fast as I could, but I never seemed to be getting anywhere and Edward never seemed to be able to hear me. But here, in Edward's arms, these nightmares never dared appear. Somehow, everything seemed far less frightening as long as we were together. Some nights we slept, some nights we loved, other nights we spent just talking, telling funny stories from our respective childhoods, or imagining what our future would be like when the Redcoats finally left.

What's more, I could forget the guilt that consumed me over keeping Charlie out of this dear part of my life. My birthday had come and passed, and as he had promised, he brought me on a stroll to the town center. The silence between us had been heavy as we were not used to being alone like that, with no work to be done. Then, without prelude, Charlie had started telling me about my mother. It was the most he'd ever spoke of her since I could remember. He told me about the first time they met, how beautiful she was and how talented and smart, how her family disapproved of the match but how she gave up everything to be with him. The perils they chose to face to come to the New World and start up a new life, leaving everything and everyone familiar behind. How he almost died of sickness on the voyage and how she'd nursed him back to health, refusing to leave him even though it meant she might grow ill herself. She had promised to never leave him.

He didn't need to tell me about her passing. That was a story I had heard many times, of that gusty September night that blew in my life as it blew out hers. How she gave me all her love and blessings with her last breath, naming me Isabella Marie, handing me off to Charlie as she lost even the strength to hold me in her arms.

What ate away at me was what Charlie had said when he turned to me. He had never been a very expressive man, but there were tears in his eyes then.

"Her dress, Isabella. Oh I wish you could've seen her in it. She was an angel, even then when she was alive. I had been hanging on to it for far too long for I had thought it was the last bit of her left to me. But I realized too late that I had been neglecting the true part of her that remained. As long as there's you, Isabella, there's her too. I see all the goodness that was in her reflected in you. I regret not being present as a real father. There's so much I should have said to you, done for you, that I didn't. It's as if I've had a veil dropped over my eyes, and when I finally brushed it aside, you were a young woman, not the little girl I remembered."

He had had to stop at this point, unable to continue as his voice cracked under the weight of his emotion. I grabbed his hand, pressing it between mine.

"Father, please don't fret over the past. You gave me a lovely childhood. I never felt unsafe or unloved. You were there for me when you needed to be. You were the one sitting by my side when I was sick. You were the one who always provided for me and kept me clothed and warm. Yes, perhaps you were a little distant, but you gave me independence and a mind with which I could think on my own. You've always let me make my own decisions, right or wrong, and learn to fix my mistakes. That's more than I can say for many other girls my age."

He patted my hand before roughly wiping at his eyes, "You are brave, Isabella. You have spirit, just like your mother. She had that same steely determination." I kissed him on the cheek.

"You know," he continued, "your mother was married in that dress. I know you are more than capable of making up your own mind, Isabella. You always have been. I'll be proud of you either way, but if you were to choose that dress for your own wedding day, I know your mother would have loved to see it, and it would mean a lot to me."

At those words, I felt as if an entire boulder had fell into my stomach, and all I had been able to manage was to croak out an, "Of course, Father," as we continued on down the lane. How could I tell him that I had already gone and married, in Mother's dress to boot, without him knowing a whit about it? My face had burned with the shame of it, and I had to look down at my boots as we walked so that my curls would hide it.

I could barely breathe when he asked me about the going-ons of my life, how Alice and Rose were doing, how Bonnie was doing in the hands of her new owner. I answered him as best I could, my soul darkened by the shadow of my secret.

Even now, thinking back to that afternoon, my brow furrowed in anxiety. Not only did I not know how I was going to tell him, I had no idea when I was going to tell him. Our inn was filled with Redcoats night and day now, and I didn't want to risk one of them over-hearing.

I could sense Edward looking at me with worry so I tried to shake the troublesome thoughts out of my mind. He was too sharp, however, to miss it.

"Thinking about your father?" he asked.

There was no hiding anything from him. I had told him about my birthday stroll with Charlie. I nodded mutely.

"Isabella, you know I'll stand behind you no matter what. I'm as much to blame in this as you. I should have asked him for your hand in marriage instead of stealing you away."

I shook my head fiercely, "No, Edward. He's my father. It was my responsibility, not yours. I'm the one who failed here."

He kissed my hair, "You're too hard on yourself, Isabella. You're not a failure. You were trying to protect him from the knowledge of who I am. You were doing your best for him."

"Trying to protect him from the knowledge of who you are?!" I cried incredulously, "No, Edward. I didn't tell him because I was selfish and a coward to boot. I know Charlie. I know he hates the tax collectors as much as anyone. He would love you if he knew you. I know he would. But I didn't tell him because I'd never had a secret before, not from anyone, and suddenly here you were, and I wanted you all to myself. It was entirely unfair. I've been a horrible daughter and now because of it, I'm a horrible wife. If Charlie knew about you, maybe we wouldn't have to sneak around like this. Maybe we'd be able to have more than a few nights every now and then." I wasn't aware of how many tears were streaming down my face before Edward started kissing them away as they fell.

"Isabella," he started, "you're not a horrible wife. You're perfect. You're perfect because you're mine. If you want to tell your father about us today, I want to be there with you. If you want to tell your father about us in five years, I still want to be there with you. A horrible daughter would never cry over her father like this."

"I'm telling him," I muttered, half to myself, "As soon as it's safe, I'm telling him."

It was hard as it always was to leave the warmth of the covers and Edward's body, but I did it as I always did. It was only getting later and later in the morning and I needed to be back before people in the inn started stirring. I put on my shift and my petticoats and behind me, I could hear the familiar sounds of Edward donning his own clothes. As soon as we'd set the bedclothes right and stamped down the fire, we were off.

Like usual, he stopped Steadfast a mile away from the inn. We dismounted to walk the rest of the way to the hidden servant's entrance, hand in hand. Our footsteps slowed just a few paces before the trees thinned out, so that we were just hidden from the view of curious eyes. I turned to face him, my hands still clasped in his.

"I'll wait for you," I promised him, our usual farewell. We never said goodbye. That particular word never felt right for us.

"I'll come for you," he promised in reply, "though hell should bar the way."

I stood up on my tiptoes to give him a kiss when suddenly, Edward's hands tightened around mine.

"There's someone here," he hissed, as he pushed me behind him.

"Isabella?"

My mouth went dry as I heard the familiar voice. Whipping my head to the left, I saw him. Jacob, with his arms full of kindling and his eyes full of shock.

I was paralyzed in sudden terror as I watched Jacob's eyes drift from me to Edward to our hands that were still clasped together. When his eyes returned to Edward's face, they were filled with something I'd never seen before. It was hate, pure and deep, and it chilled me to the very core.

"You son of a bitch," Jacob snarled. I watched in horror as he dropped the kindling, which spilled onto the frozen ground with a dull clatter, and pulled the hunting knife he kept with him from its sheath, advancing towards Edward, whose hand flashed towards his pistol, his other arm barring me behind him.

"NO!" I screamed, ducking under Edward's arm to rush towards Jacob.

"Isabella, don't!" Edward shouted, as he made a grab for me, but I was too quick. I slammed into Jacob, making him grunt with the impact.

His knife-wielding hand hesitated for a moment as he glanced down at me, his eyes softening for a moment. I took the chance to plead with him.

"Jacob, please stop this. You don't know what you are doing," I cried.

His eyes hardened again and his teeth were bared as he spat out, "This man is a wanted criminal, Isabella. There's hundreds of pounds on his head. What has he done to you? Why are you out of your bed this early in the morning?"

"No, Jacob," I begged, "This man is no criminal. He hasn't done anything to me. He's my husband."

Jacob went slack-jawed as he stared at me. I didn't like how his eyes appraised me, as if I were a stranger. I couldn't say I didn't deserve it though. He was so surprised that he dropped his knife. I had enough presence of mind at least to kick it away from his reach.

"Your _what_?" Jacob finally growled.

"My husband," I repeated, "I love him"

His eyes flitted between Edward and I, before he suddenly turned away from me, his hands grasping his long dark hair as he let out a string of expletives that Charlie would have had his hide for if he were a boy.

He started stalking back towards the inn and my heart stopped in sudden fear of what he may do. I ran, scrambling to block his path.

"Please, Jacob," I begged breathlessly, "please, don't tell anyone."

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't," he glared at me, his eyes hard as flint.

"Edward is a good man, Jacob. Please just let me explain. I'm sorry you had to find out like this. I was planning to tell you soon, really. We grew up together, Jacob. You're like family and if you ever loved me as a sister, please, don't do what I think you're about to do."

My words did not have the intended effect, because Jacob pushed me away from him as he spat, "I am not your brother, Isabella. Don't you say that. We are _not_ blood." His words cut through me as I stared at him, hurt. I had never seen him this angry and he looked almost unrecognizable. He stared back at me when suddenly, something seemed to register in him and his shoulders slumped forward. The anger didn't leave him but there was a new weariness to it.

"Fine," he muttered, his eyes refusing to meet mine, "I'll indulge you." And he started back towards the inn. I wasn't quite sure of him yet so I jumped in front of him again, wanting to look into his eyes and know that my secret was safe with him.

"Get out of my way, Isabella," Jacob snapped, "before I change my mind." My eyes met his, and although they were still filled with fury, they looked like Jacob's again and I breathed out a sigh of relief. Quietly, I let him go and watched him disappear around the corner. A few moments later, I heard the distant slam of the stable door.

I turned around to see Edward looking at me, his eyes indecipherable. I went up to take his hands in mine, resting my forehead against his chest with a deep sigh, letting out the breath I didn't realize I'd been holding all this time. He released his hands from my grasp to wrap his arms around me.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, "I've never seen him so upset. I had no idea he would react like that."

Edward was silent for a moment before he replied, "Of course he would. He loves you."

"I know," I whispered, "Jacob and I grew up together. We've never kept secrets from each other before."

Edward shook his head, "No, Isabella. You're not understanding me. I mean that he is in love with you."

I looked up at him in shock, "Edward, what are you talking about?"

Edward smiled wryly, "It's quite plain to see, Isabella. I can't say I blame him."

I shook my head, "No, that's impossible." My mind railed against the idea that Jacob secretly harbored romantic feelings towards me. I had ever thought of him as a brother and I loved him as such. I didn't want to consider it possible that he felt differently and that I had been ignorant of it for all this time. But even as I tried to deny it, in my heart, I knew that Edward spoke the truth. All those glances in my direction, the new discomfort I felt under his gaze. It all fit, damn it. I had been a fool and my foolishness had hurt my first and oldest friend.

"Isabella," Edward started. I ignored him, squeezing my eyes shut as if willing the last ten minutes to have never have happened.

"Isabella," Edward repeated. I sighed and opened my eyes to look at him.

"If you truly consider him a friend, you need to go find him and talk to him. He deserves an explanation."

I sniffled, nodding in agreement. Edward was right, as usual. I had to go find Jacob. Even if all I wanted to do was hide in mortification of my own ignorance, I owed it to him. If he wanted to rail some more, call me whatever horrible names he could think of, it was my just dessert and his due for how I'd treated him.

"Do you want me to accompany you?" Edward offered.

"No, I should speak with him alone. I fear that your presence may only make it worse," I replied. Behind me, I could hear the sounds of the inn stirring. Quickly, I kissed him.

"It's time for you to go," I urged him, the fear of possible discovery starting to build up again within my chest.

"When shall we meet again?"

I bit my lip. Although Jacob had promised not to tell, the entire situation made me feel uneasy for Edward's safety.

"A fortnight," I finally, reluctantly, said, "Wait for things to settle down. I'll send word by Esme."

"In that case," Edward said, before he bent down to give me a kiss that scorched me from the top of my head to the very tips of my toes. My face was flushed when we parted and my breath came out in quick sharp gasps.

"To last me for the long fortnight," Edward said before he disappeared into the trees.

I struggled to catch my breath as my fingers drifted up to brush against my lips which still tingled from his touch. It was unholy how much I loved this man.

I waited for the flush in my cheeks to go down before I turned to face the inn. I swallowed hard as I gathered up the courage to start heading towards the stables. I knew that whatever was coming would not be pleasant, but it was high time for me to stop burying my head in the sand. My resolve steeled, I smoothed down my cloak and skirts as I started towards the stable door. There were little bits of wood on the ground around it, fallen from the force Jacob had used in slamming the door. I sighed as I pushed it open, peering inside. All was silent except for the soft breathing of the horses.

"Jacob?" I called out. There was no answer. I walked over to the little room where he slept and rapped lightly on the door.

"Jacob?" I called again. Still, there was no answer. I closed my eyes, leaning my head against the wooden boards. Even though all was silent, I knew he was in there. Ever since he was young, whenever he got upset, this is where he would retreat to stew. Only this time, I wasn't in there with him, because I was the one who had hurt him.

"Jacob," I whispered, "please let me in. Please."

"Go away, Isabella."

I sighed in relief. At least he answered. That was always a good sign.

"Please, Jacob. Just let me talk to you," I begged.

"What could you possibly have to say to me?"

"Just let me explain. Everything. You deserve to know everything. No secrets," I replied, "Not anymore. I promise." There was silence for a while and I started to think that Jacob and I would just remain here forever, our feet growing into the floor like old tree roots. But suddenly, the door flew open, making me stumble a little. I looked up to see Jacob glowering at me, arms crossed.

"Explain," he ordered.

Meekly, I asked, "Can I come in and sit down? It's a long story."

Jacob rolled his eyes at me but thankfully, he moved aside to let me by, closing the door behind me as I sat myself down on the one chair in his room. He stood with his back leaning against the door, waiting for me to speak. I looked around the little abode. It had been a while since I was last in here and it seemed as if time had stopped. Nothing in the room had changed; but for the occupants in it, everything had.

"Well?" Jacob prompted.

I looked back at him, took a deep breath, and started telling him everything from the very beginning. I told him about dragging Edward out from that roadside ditch, about hiding him in the stable loft, nursing him back to health. I told him all about the day I found out who the world thought he was and the night I realized it didn't matter what the world thought he was. I told him about the night he appeared at the inn, how he risked discovery to save me from the Redcoats. I told him about Esme, and the night I found out who he really was. I told him about that miserable street in town, and Ben. I told him about Edward's mother and his childhood, and why he became a highwayman. I told him about our secret wedding and how happy I was. I told him about the home he built for us.

I left nothing out. Every thought I had, every feeling I felt in the last year, was laid bare. When I was finally done, the silence was deafening. I was afraid to look at him, afraid of what his reaction would be.

"You hid him right under my nose… for _months_?!" Jacob finally asked. Although it was quiet, his voice was white hot with fury.

"I had nowhere else to put him," I whispered.

Jacob darkly muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "You should have put him in the ground."

Silence again, and then: "Does Charlie know?"

There was the old familiar guilt again as I barely eked out the one word: "No."

Jacob scoffed. It was another while before he spoke again, but this time, his voice was softer.

"Well, at least I'm not the last to know," he remarked drily.

"I'm sorry, Jacob," I said, looking up at him now, my eyes meeting his. There were so many things I was sorry for, and it wasn't just the fact that I had kept this immense secret from him for months. I could have said it a thousand times and it still wouldn't be enough. He must have seen it in my eyes, because his shoulders stiffened.

"So you know." It wasn't a question. And I didn't have to clarify what he meant. I knew.

"Yes," I responded sadly.

"When?"

"Just now. Edward told me."

"Edward –?! "Jacob started furiously, before stopping, seemingly too angry for words.

"Yes, Edward. He said he didn't blame you."

"I don't need his pity," Jacob shot back.

"I should have realized sooner. I could tell something was different between us. The air had changed. It didn't feel like when we were children anymore, but I didn't see the obvious reason why. I was stupid and blind and I hate that I hurt you. I never meant to. I never wanted to." I hoped he believed me because it was all true. Jacob stared at the dirt floor, scuffing it with the toe of his boot. I waited for him to say something, anything.

Finally: "Would it have mattered?"

"What?"

"If you had figured it out sooner. If you had known. Would it have mattered?"

I bit my lip and squeezed my eyes shut. I didn't want to answer him. I didn't want to lie to him but I also didn't want to hurt him further with a truthful answer.

"Bella," he prompted me.

"Jacob," I finally spoke, hoping that he would just let the subject drop "Whatever I say, it's not going to change anything."

"Tell me," he grabbed my shoulders and shook me gently so that my eyes popped open, straight into his insistent gaze. I looked back at him. No matter how much I hated it, I had to tell him the truth now. He wasn't going to give me any other choice.

"I'm sorry, Jacob."

That was all I could bring myself to say, but it was all I needed to say because he knew what it meant. He slumped against the door like a marionette with the strings cut. It hurt me to see him like this and know that I had done it.

"It's not right, Isabella," he finally said, "He's not good for you."

I looked at him sharply, "Jacob, I'm not a little girl anymore. I think I can decide for myself what's good for me and what's not."

He was silent and I chewed on my lip as I thought about how I was going to say what's been heavy on my mind all throughout this conversation.

"Jacob," I finally said, "I trust you." He didn't answer.

"I know you'd never do anything to hurt me," I continued, "You've always kept my secrets and I've always kept yours.

Jacob looked up now, his eyes intense, "No, Isabella. I would never hurt you. I only ever want what's good for you."

I nodded, relieved. I wanted to tell him how I envisioned the future, how I had faith he would find love yet, and how I saw us all happy together, raising our families together side by side, just as Jacob and I had grown up together, but before I could open my mouth to speak –

"Boy! I need my horse. Where is that bloody stableboy?"

"I have to go," Jacob muttered. Before I could blink, he was gone, leaving me alone in the room. I could still hear them talking out in the stable and I tiptoed over to the door to take a peek through the crack. My blood froze when I saw a flash of red, but as I kept watch, Jacob gave no indication that anything unusual happened this morning. My heartbeat slowed to a more normal pace as I watched him prepare the horse and follow horse and rider out of the stable. All was quiet then and I waited a few more moments to see if anyone was coming back. When no one did, I quietly left my hiding place to start my day.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

 _They said no word to the landlord. They drank his ale instead.  
But they gagged his daughter, and bound her, to the foot of her narrow bed.  
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side!  
There was death at every window;  
And hell at one dark window;  
For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride. _

**Isabella Cullen, Boston, March 1770**

I groaned as I wiped my mouth with a handkerchief, blindly grasping for the cup of water to wash away the foul taste of my stomach contents. I pushed the chamber pot away when I was done, grasping my knees to stand upright. One hand against my stomach and the other against my damp brow, I closed my eyes and rested my body against the wall. Illness had been spreading around the community as of late, and I feared I had caught the same bug. Luckily, I was spared the dreadful fever, but my belly was the one unfortunate casualty. For the last few days, even the most subtle smells would set me off, and I would have to drop what I was doing and run for the door. What's more, my bones ached something fierce and I fell into bed each night almost completely depleted of energy. Charlie had offered to send for the doctor, but I waved him off. Money was tighter than ever and whatever I had did not seem life-threatening. The lack of fever was a good sign and I reassured Charlie that with time and some rest, I would be cured.

I sighed as I glanced towards the open window. Although it was cold and there were still patches of snow covering the ground, it helped air out the sick smell. Besides, it gave me a better view of the moonlit road. Edward was coming tonight, and I would have to tell him to keep his distance until I felt better, lest he fall ill as well.

I closed my eyes as I thought of Edward. After the confrontation with Jacob, I didn't see him for two weeks that felt like ages, but I wanted to be sure that he was safe. We slowly started seeing each other more and more after that and finally, this month, everything seemed to be back to normal.

With Jacob however, normal still evaded our grasp. There were days when I felt like he was my old friend again. We cracked jokes with each other and teased mercilessly. But, whenever I tried to bring up Edward, he turned cold and silent, and so I stopped trying to force the subject. I knew that when Jacob was ready to talk about it, he would. When I started spending time with Edward again, I thought he might have wanted to, but strangely, I'd never be able to find him in the morning when I came back. He simply disappeared, often materializing later in the day as if a ghost. By the morrow, however, he would be back to his old self. Sometimes I would still catch that intense look in his eyes that made me so uncomfortable before, but those moments were becoming fewer and farther between, and I hoped that it meant Jacob was finally moving past his ill-founded infatuation. At least, he never spoke of it to me again.

My stomach feeling more settled now, I pushed myself away from the wall and headed downstairs to help Charlie close up the inn. He had barred me from working during the day, when we had more customers, but I felt guilty about letting my share of the work fall onto Molly's shoulders, so he allowed me to help him finish off each day instead.

Hearing me come down the stairs, Charlie turned to look at me, concern in his eyes.

"How are you feeling, Isabella?" he asked.

I smiled reassuringly at him, "Better. Ready to work."

Charlie frowned at me, "Maybe you shouldn't be – "

I interrupted him, "No, Charlie. I think some activity would be good for me. I can't just waste away in bed all day."

Charlie acquiesced to my logic and we worked side by side to wipe down the tables and clear away the empty tankards. It was quite late in the evening already and all the patrons had left to go to their beds. It was actually quite peaceful and my favorite time of day.

With a start, I realized that tonight, for the first time in more than half a year, there were no Redcoats under our roof. It was surprising, but I wasn't going to question this most welcome change. I recalled my promise to myself and I glanced furtively at Charlie, who was busy mopping the floor now. I had not a clue how to begin a conversation like this, but I figure since I had waited so long, there was no wrong way to start as long as I did start.

He turned to look at me inquiringly when I called to him, but before I could say anything else –

BAM! I almost jumped out of my skin as the door to the inn flew open, the strong oak board that served as our lock splintering with the force of the impact. My heart stopped as I registered a regiment of twelve red-coated soldiers traipsing ice and mud onto the newly cleaned floor.

Charlie's face turned a dark brick red as he registered the troops and the damage they caused.

He drew himself up to his full height as he spluttered in outrage, "What is the meaning of this?"

They didn't answer him, and I couldn't hold back my scream as I watched the soldier in the front reel back his arm and strike Charlie across the face with a sickening crack and thud as Charlie tumbled to the ground.

I ran over to him, turning him over, but he was out cold. I turned to the soldier who'd hit him, furious.

"You bastard! He's done nothing to you! No! You stay away from him," I cried as the soldier reached for him again. I covered Charlie's body with my own, but the soldier ripped me away, knocking the breath out of me as I hit the leg of a table. When I turned back, he had Charlie tied up to a chair, his arms behind him and his legs bound tightly.

A face drifted into view and I recoiled in horror as I recognized him from another night many months ago when a pair of red-coat soldiers dared to mar the peace of the inn.

"Hello, dearie," he smiled at me gleefully, "we meet again."

"What the devil is going on down here?" sounded from above us.

I looked up to see a crowd of onlookers at the banister. The commotion had roused the guests. Before I fully realized what was happening, the soldier in front of me discharged his weapon into the man who had spoken. The unfortunate fellow slumped against the banister, his arms hanging limply over it.

I heard a scream that was not my own. Molly was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, face white in terror.

"James!" another soldier reprimanded, "That's not what we were ordered to do."

James ignored him as he turned his pistol towards poor Molly, who looked like she was about to faint.

"Wench! Go get us some ale," he commanded haughtily.

Molly stood frozen in place, eyes wide and staring.

"Molly," I whispered, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to stay calm and keep my wits about me, "Go. Do as they say." I didn't want to hear that pistol firing again while it was pointed at her or anyone else. Molly turned on her heel and hurried back into the kitchen. Through the door, I could hear the clanking of tankards being set under the barrels.

James smirked as he turned his attention back to the frightened guests.

"If you know what's good for you, you would leave this establishment at once," he laughed humorlessly. At these words, the little crowd scattered, murmuring in fear and disbelief. They streamed past us out the door, hardly daring to look back. By this time, Molly had returned holding twelve foaming tankards of ale, filled to the brim. Her hands were shaking as she set them down on the table, backing away after she'd done so.

James didn't look at her, eyes still trained on me, when he said, "Good. Now go."

Molly stumbled her way out and her sobs drifted in through the open door as her running footsteps disappeared down the road. I couldn't hope she'd bring back any help. Who would go against the King's men? They were outside the law.

I lifted my chin to look James square in the eye.

"You've gotten what you wanted. You've had your fun. So drink your ale and leave us in peace," I ordered stiffly trying to sound less frightened than I felt.

James laughed, a sound that grated my ears, "Oh but dearie, we haven't gotten what we wanted yet."

I yelped at his vice-like grip on my arm as he dragged me up to a standing position, crushing me to his side. He put his lips to my ear and I shuddered at his foul breath which stunk of tobacco, old meat, and ale.

"You see," he whispered, "what we want is…"

He paused as he brushed his hand across my neck.

"That dashing highwayman you've been letting between your sweet legs," he finally finished, his voice dripping with relish.

My heart stopped. _No. No no no no no._ Edward was coming. Tonight. I had to warn him.

A strength that was more than my own powered me as I pushed James aside, ripping myself free of his grip. He stumbled away, surprised as I made a break for the open door.

"Stop her!" I heard the soldier's shouts behind me. I made it out the door and sprinted, running as fast as my legs would allow. I heard the heavy pounding of boots behind me and I spurred myself on faster, breaking into the trees now and weaving in and out of them as I tried my best to lose my pursuers.

I fell face first to the ground when a hand gripped my ankle. I kicked at it, screaming, but he caught my other leg as well, pulling me towards him.

I tried to flip over to my back so I could scratch at his face, but he pressed me down into the cold ground, causing twigs to snap under me, the sharp ends piercing through my dress and into my skin.

I froze when I felt a cold hand sneak up under my skirts to grab the waist of my petticoat.

"Ohhhh," James groaned, " _please_ give me a reason to –"

Mercifully, he was interrupted by another sharp voice: "James. You can have your fun later. It's almost time. We don't want to miss him."

My blood ran cold. They knew. They knew he was coming tonight. How?

James hissed in irritation, but he obeyed, hauling me up from the ground. I struggled against his grasp, almost breaking away again before the other soldier got hold of my other arm and I was beat. Together, they marched me out of the woods, the inn appearing into sight again.

"Isabella?!" an incredulous voice sounded. Jacob. I opened my mouth to tell him that they were here for Edward, hoping that Jacob would be able to reach him, when –

"I thought you said you weren't going to hurt her!" he protested furiously, and the words shriveled on my lips as the truth of the night dawned on me. _Oh Jacob, I trusted you._

James laughed mirthlessly, "Oh, we won't. _Much_."

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Jacob start towards me, but out of nowhere, three Red-coats jumped out and held him back as he howled after me.

I didn't have time to dwell on Jacob or what he had done. I was furiously wracking my brain, trying to find a way out of this nightmare, a way to warn Edward of what was lying in wait for him.

Charlie was still unmoving on the chair when we entered, but it relieved me to see the slow even rise and fall of his chest, letting me know that while hurt, he was still alive. They dragged me up the stairs and paused on the landing, looking up and down the hallway.

The other soldier next to me pointed a finger at my door, "It must be that one. The dog pointed out a window near there where he said Cullen would appear."

They kicked open my door, and threw me onto the floor. As soon as I hit the boards, I was scrambling to get up again, but a hard boot caught me in the belly, making me cough as I crumpled back down to the ground, a sharp pain shooting straight through to my back. They dragged me by my arms to the foot of my bed, yanking them behind me as they roughly bound my wrists together with rope. My ankles they bound together too before they dragged them around to turn me to face the open window. I had a clear view of the road ahead, the moon reflecting off of it so that it seemed like a shining silver river, one that would bring Edward to his death tonight.

I shivered as James brought his face a hair's breadth from mine.

His lips were curled into a sneer as he said, "Oh, I am going to have _so_ much fun with you when this is all over."

Rearing my head back, I spat in his face.

"Go to hell, you bloody bast –" My words were cut off, my head snapping to the side as James struck me. I tasted blood as my teeth cut into my cheek from the impact.

"James," another dark haired soldier snapped, "Quit playing around and get into position. If we muck this up, the Captain will have our hides for it."

I felt something hard at my side as I struggled against my bonds, screaming and stomping my bound feet against the floor, hoping that if I made as much noise as possible, Edward would be able to hear from the open window and turn away to safety.

The next blow had me gasping and coughing again, and a dirty rag was stuffed into my mouth, muffling my screams. I felt fingers grasp my face, forcing me to turn forward and see James squatting in front of me.

His eyes glinted as he threatened, "Be quiet or I'll gag you with something a little more… substantial." I felt sick as his eyes flicked down to the front of his breeches, but his words had the intended effect. He tied the hard object to my side and when he was done, he patted my head as if I were a lap dog.

"Now keep good watch for us, dearie, and put on a sweet face. Your highwayman will be here soon and you don't want him to see you looking unhappy to see him, do you?"

He chuckled darkly as he turned away to join his comrades by the window. My heart felt as if it were about to burst as with them, I strained to hear any sounds of an approaching horseman. I hoped against hope that by some miracle, Edward wouldn't come tonight, but I knew that this was impossible. Edward always kept his promises. His parting words echoed in my panicked brain: _I'll come for you, Isabella. Always. Though hell should bar the way_.

Minutes seemed to pass like hours as we waited there. The redcoats still as statues, their muskets at the ready. Then:

 _Tlot-tlot_

My wild eyes scanned the room, looking for any sign that they had heard.

 _Tlot-tlot_

My heart raced as the sound pierced through me. I knew what it was and what it meant. Edward was coming. Unknowingly, he was headed straight for his doom. The cowards were planning on shooting him down without warning.

 _Tlot-tlot_

The sound gave me renewed vigor as I struggled quietly against my bonds, the rope burning me as it chafed against my skin.

 _Tlot-tlot_

My tears were flowing freely now, soaking into my gag as I desperately tried to wriggle out of the rope. Something wet and warm dripped down the side of my hands. I prayed that it would help provide some assistance in slipping off the rope, but it was sticky and it only made it harder to break out from my bonds.

 _Tlot-tlot_

My wide eyes saw one soldier nudge another as they raised their muskets. There was no Edward on the horizon yet, but the sound of his horse was unmistakable. I was in a frenzy.

 _Tlot-tlot_

The object at my side fell a little bit to rest against my ribs as it was more loosely bound than I was. I realized that it was a musket they had tied next to me, in a cruel imitation of the soldiers' position at the window, their own muskets by their sides.

 _Tlot-tlot_

I used the tread of my boots to try and rotate myself to the side. I had an idea but I had to work quickly if I wanted to save Edward. If I could only reach…

 _Tlot-tlot_

My finger looped around the trigger of the gun. I had it! But the barrel was still digging into my ribs. I tried to wiggle the musket to point away from me but it was hopelessly lodged.

 _Tlot-tlot_

Good God! I turned to look out the window. Time was running out. The sound of Edward's horse was getting louder, nearer, and I knew I only had seconds left to warn him.

 _Tlot-tlot_

I heard the small clicks of hammers being released from four muskets. I closed my eyes, whispering a silent prayer. I knew what I had to do. I had to save him. No matter what.

 _Tlot-tlot_.

Opening my eyes again, although my vision was blurry from my tears, I could just make out the top of Edward's hat as he made his way closer. The tears kept streaming down my face as I willed him to turn around, but the sounds of the hoof beats didn't stop. The images of the future we had dreamed of together flitted through my mind's eye and I sobbed to think that they would never come to fruition. But as painful as that thought was, it was unbearable to think of Edward's life being snuffed out when there was something I could do to stop it. I knew I would never be able to live with myself afterward.

 _I'm so sorry, Edward. I love you so much. I love you. I love you. I love you_. I willed my thoughts to reach him as my finger traced the cold metal of the trigger.

The sound of it seemed to crack open the night sky. The last thing I heard before darkness overtook me was the startled, confused cry of the soldiers and the distant whinny of the rider's horse.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

 _He turned. He spurred to the west; he did not know who stood  
Bowed, with her head o'er the musket, drenched with her own blood!  
Not till the dawn he heard it, and his face grew grey to hear  
How Bess, the landlord's daughter,  
The landlord's black-eyed daughter,  
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there. _

**Edward Cullen, Boston, March 1770**

A sudden crack rent the night sky, making Steadfast startle underneath me as he reared up onto his hind legs. I swore, turning him around as distantly, muffled cries were heard. Steadfast galloped in the opposite direction for a while before I reined her in to a stop, glancing back the way I had been heading.

God only knew what mischief was afoot. I had never failed to show up for Isabella, but there were so many Redcoats around nowadays. I'd never been particularly concerned for my own safety, but now that her life was linked to mine, I had learned to grow more cautious. The sound could have been anything. Dueling was popular amongst the younger more foolish men these days. But I could sense Steadfast's impatience. Whatever was beyond that road, he didn't want to explore any further. I sighed, disappointed at the change in plans. I would send a note by Esme and make it up to my love another night.

I allowed Steadfast to take me to the little hut that Isabella and I shared. Leaving him in the yard, I entered the room and got a fire going. Although it was a small room and I made a large fire, it felt empty and cold without her. I didn't bother to undress before getting into bed. The rest of the night, I laid awake, shivering under the covers, unable to fall asleep as I thought of her.

Gradually, night turned to morning and I gave up on trying to reach the shores of slumber, instead watching as the fire faded into dying embers and the light of day slowly started to brighten up the room instead. I threw back Esme's quilt and sat up, pulling on my boots. I walked the couple of paces it took to get to the little table, sitting down and searching my pockets for a scrap of paper. Taking a quill, I wet the end of it in the condensation that formed on the window, and swirled it in the dried-up inkpot. Gathering enough wet ink to allow me to write, I started penning my apologies. A few lines later, I folded it up, tucking it in my shirt pocket as I walked out the door. Steadfast was waiting placidly in the same place I had left him, giving me a soft snort in greeting. I patted his nose before I hopped on, spurring him to a gentle trot as we headed towards town.

I made sure my scarf was secure around my face as we approached, my hat pulled low over my face. But as we entered the main square, I frowned. Something seemed… off. The townspeople were scurrying around, looking nervous as mice. Even more curious, there were no Redcoats around. I looked around surreptitiously for even a hint of red but there were none to be seen. _So what the devil has everyone looking so jumpy?_

I dismounted when I reached Esme's door. I could hear the faint crying of children from the other side as I reached up to knock.

The usual cheery "Come in!" I was expecting never came. I reached up to knock again when the door suddenly opened and a pair of wide grey eyes in a girl's face peered out. She was not familiar to me and she had a rather malnourished and weather-beaten look about her for someone so young. I surmised she must be one of Esme's newest charges.

"Good morning," I greeted her, "I'm looking for Esme. I'm a friend of hers, Edward."

The girl didn't or couldn't speak. She only stared at me.

"Is she here?" I tried again. This time, she shook her head. Puzzled, I stared back at her. Esme has never not been home at this time of day, not since I could remember.

"Do you know when she will be back?"

Again, the girl shook her head mutely. I was unnerved, but I brushed off my unease as foolishness. Esme was allowed to leave her house whenever she wanted. Surely it meant nothing. Still, the feeling of something being seriously wrong refused to leave me.

"Well, please tell her that Edward was looking for her when she gets back, won't you." The girl nodded before shutting the door in my face. I blinked, thrown off kilter by this strange exchange. Finally, I shook my head before I headed back towards Steadfast. Instead of mounting, I led him by the reins to a nearby tavern, already busy with patrons. I left Steadfast with the other horses as I entered the establishment, resolving to rest there for a few moments before I went back to see if Esme had returned. If there was any explanation to the pall that seemed to have befallen this town, and my own disquiet, I would learn it from her then.

I sat down at a corner table and it wasn't long before a barmaid stopped in front of me, her hands on her hips but her smile cheery as she asked me, "And what'll ye have, sir?"

"Coffee, if you have it, please. Make it strong."

The barmaid scurried away with the order and before long, I had a steaming cup of brew warming my hands. I breathed in the aroma before taking a sip. The buzz of the inn was familiar and comforting after the strange-ness of the morning and I lost myself in it.

Next to me, three old women were conversing, their heads pinioned together as if planning a murder. I paid no attention to them as I recognized them as the town gossips. I turned back to my coffee.

"Did you hear about what happened at the Swan establishment?"

The cup froze on the way to my lips as I caught the barmaid's words. She had stopped by the three gossips' table to refill their teas. The morning's unease rose in a burning lump to my throat again, like bile, and I fought to keep it down. _Steady, man_ , I thought, _don't bring attention to yourself. It may be nothing._

"Oh dear," gossip number one sighed, "Who hasn't?! It's all over town. And poor Mary's husband got caught in the middle of it all. He's dead, you know."

"What happened?" gossip number three asked excitedly, "I haven't heard this yet."

"What, Bertha, have you had your head in the sand?" gossip number two exclaimed incredulously.

"Tell me! Tell me!" gossip number three urged.

"The Redcoats came for them in the night. You know the highwayman they've been hunting for months?" She paused for their assent.

"Well," she continued, "would you believe that that pretty little daughter of Charlie's was his lover?"

"No!" gasped gossip number three in disbelief.

Gossip number one shook her head and tsked, "If I said it once, I've said it a hundred times. A man raising a child, especially a girl-child, on his own spells trouble. As soon as his wife passed, he should have remarried and given that girl a mother! She was a wild one, that one, always running around wherever she pleased, just like a boy. It's disgraceful! Unnatural!"

"So what happened?" the barmaid prompted, leaning her elbows against the table now, "Even I haven't heard the full story."

Gossip number two clucked in sympathy before continuing, "Well, the redcoats found out. They marched into the inn, tied up Charlie, and dragged the girl to her room while they waited for her lover. That was when they shot Mary's husband."

"But why?" the barmaid exclaimed.

Gossip number one scoffed, "Why do the redcoats do anything? Who knows! Keep going with the story, Ruth."

"They dragged the girl up to her room and tied her up so she wouldn't run off to warn her lover. And then, they just sat and waited for him. I believe they almost had him too, but the girl got hold of one of their muskets, lord knows how. Well, I'm sure you can guess what happened." She waited expectantly.

"What?" gossip number two obliged her.

"She went and shot herself of course. To warn him, surely. They said she was gagged so screaming would have done her no good." There was a gasp of horror from the barmaid.

"Oh the poor thing," she sighed, shaking her head.

Gossip number one reached over and patted her hand, "Don't worry, sweet pea. If you listen to your mother and don't take no highwayman lovers, you'll die old and safe in your own bed, that is if the pox don't take you."

"How did you come to learn of all this?" the barmaid asked.

Gossip number two shrugged, "They pulled old man Barnes out from his bed to help them rip apart her room. They're still intent on finding this fellow so they were desperate to find any scrap of a clue to where his hide-about was."

Gossip number one shivered, "He said they didn't even have the decency to bury her. I'd bet my last remaining tooth that she's still lying there, sitting in a pool of her own blood. He said by the time he went in, the room looked and smelled a fright. And her face. He didn't know what they done to her, but her face was all shades of purple and blue. He hardly knew her and believe me, old man Barnes had seen this girl grow from when she was but a babe. Apparently it was quite awful. He hasn't been the same since. My Harry's with him right now, trying to cheer him up with some strong ale. No matter how strange she was, that girl was real popular amongst the patrons of that inn and like many others, old man Barnes had a soft spot for her. It was a nasty shock for him."

"I know something else you don't," gossip number two said smugly as the others pressed her to reveal her secrets.

"When Barnes got there, the doctor was just leaving. He had been called to examine her earlier and proclaim her death a suicide. Not that the Redcoats would have been culpable anyways if it hadn't been by her own hand. Barnes overheard him telling his assistant that she was with child."

"What?!" the others gasped.

"Oh yes," gossip number two nodded, "that girl was with child, the little fool. Not very far along mind you, but still. There it is."

"Poor thing," the barmaid repeated.

"It's a pity," gossip number three opined.

"It's a shame," gossip number one countered severely.

"It's a pity _and_ a shame," concluded gossip number two.

"So how did the Redcoats find out about her and the highwayman anyway?"

At this, gossip number one leaned in conspiratorially, "Well, apparently, the stableboy was in love with her, too! I heard he was the one who tipped the Redcoats off."

"What happened to him?"

"No one knows. Some think he skipped town. Others think he killed himself. Personally, I think the Redcoats have him locked away somewhere. Other than her, he was the only other one who knew of this highwayman. They'd be idiots not to try to press him for more information. He obviously didn't think anything would happen to her. He only wanted _him_ out of the way. That just goes to show you never know what you'll get with a Redcoat. Can't trust them. No siree!"

By this time, I'd heard enough and I couldn't stand to hear any more. My blood felt like ice in my veins as I shot up, knocking over the table in my haste. The three women and the barmaid turned to stare at me but I paid them no mind as I headed straight for the exit.

I felt sick to my stomach. I didn't want to believe it. I barely _could_ believe it. Isabella? My Isabella? My beautiful, selfless, fearless wife? Pregnant? Dead? Died alone and surrounded by brutes? Died for my sorry soul? My entire existence railed against this version of reality and every fiber of my being rejected its veracity. But the hole in my gut told me otherwise.

Just before I reached the door, I felt someone knock into me and wobble, almost losing her balance. Instinctually, I reached out to steady her, a quick apology automatically issuing from my lips, but when I glanced down, I found myself looking into Esme's startled eyes.

"Edward!" she exclaimed, out of breath. Her eyes were puffy and her face held the traces of many tears.

"I've been looking for you everywhere," she said, her hand reaching up to touch my face, as if to confirm that I was real flesh and blood and not a ghost.

For one mad second, I hoped that by some miracle, those women had gotten it wrong. Isabella couldn't be gone. Esme had to tell me that it was all some elaborate hoax, some Shakespearean machination, and that Isabella was actually waiting somewhere for me, safe and sound and alive.

"Esme," I said, my voice so rough, I hardly recognized it as my own, "Is it true?"

I didn't have to clarify what I meant, because from the look on Esme's face and the tears that started anew, I got my answer. The room seemed to spin and all I could see was red as my blood turned from ice to fire and a white-hot fury filled my heart. I brushed past her out the door.

"Edward," she cried after me, but I hardly heard her as I leapt onto Steadfast and spurred him towards the inn.

The trees were a blur on either side of me as I urged Steadfast faster and faster towards where my love lay cold and unmoving. Steadfast whined with the exertion, but I only coaxed him on faster. Gradually, the inn came into view and I could see her open window.

Then, as the sun broke through the clouds, I caught the glint of a musket. Steadfast saw it too and he hesitated, briefly breaking his stride. But I urged him on, pulling my pistol from my belt.

A shot rang out, shattering the morning air and making Steadfast jump, whinnying his alarm, but I was past caring. I was a man possessed. I couldn't help picturing her body lying broken and lifeless in her own room. And if that wasn't enough, we were going to have a baby. A baby! Our child. Our imagined future together choked in its womb. My mind reeled in anguish. I needed to avenge my love, no matter the cost.

The next shot clipped my shoulder, throwing me off my horse. But this time, it didn't come from the open window. Rather, the sound was more off to the side, from the shadow of the trees. I hit the ground rolling and was back on my feet, hardly feeling the pain in my shoulder although I could feel a weakness in the hand that told me it had hit a nerve. I was past caring.

Brandishing my weapon, I peered into the trees.

"Show yourselves, you cowards," I roared. There was no answer. I stalked towards the direction of the discharge.

The next shot laid me flat. I groaned as I tried to get up again. Another bullet tore into my back and suddenly, my legs were gone. A shadow crossed over me and I looked up to see a Redcoat smirking at me.

"Well, well, well look what we have here," he sniggered, "Hate to tell you this, my friend, but your little bird has flown the coop."

I glared at him: "Go to hell, motherfu –"

The last thing I remember seeing was blood seeping into the ground, staining the snow red, before all was darkness.

 _Isabella… my love…_


End file.
